


STRANGERS WHEN WE MEET

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 282,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: SUMMARY: When Commander Chakotay reluctantly and against his better judgment agrees to accompany a young woman he has never seen to a Command Performance for the President of the Federation, neither he nor Kathryn Janeway will comprehend fully the far reaching consequences of their first meeting, a blind date. [Set entirely in the Alpha Quadrant].





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story chronicles the lives of Chakotay and Kathryn over a period of about seven years. It is written in an AU scenario where THERE IS NO CARETAKER, Voyager does not travel in the Delta Quadrant and most of the action will take place in the Alpha Quadrant. I know that readers are mostly used to reading J/C in the Caretaker/Delta Quadrant/Homecoming setting, or set somewhere in one of the seasons of ST Voyager. It is therefore something of a challenge I've accepted to write a story where the destinies and lives run differently from what we are commonly accustomed to. 
> 
> The story is novel length, divided into FIVE BOOKS. Besides those characters related to Voyager, Janeway and Chakotay, such as Dalby, Torres, Paris, Phoebe Janeway, Gretchen Janeway, I have also created a host of original characters and when you meet them, you can decide if you like them, love them or hate them! 
> 
> PREMISE: When I considered a premise for this story, I looked at the relationship between two persons and asked the question: If a marriage had everything in place - trust, intimacy, complete faith, love, security - surely, there is nothing that can rend it asunder, is there?
> 
> ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
> 
> 1\. MARY STARK who worked tirelessly on this megaproject.  
> 2\. SHEILA WILLIAMS of Wales who championed this cause and continued to encourage me.  
> 3\. DERICK WILLIAMS, husband, mentor, friend who kept me on my toes!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Voyager, Janeway, Chakotay and other characters related to the TV Series "Star Trek: Voyager" are the property of Paramount.

* * *

BOOK 1: BEGINNINGS

**CHAPTER ONE**

 

**December 2368 - The USS ORMSKIRK, en route to Earth.**

Commander Chakotay's eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend. He approached Sergei, his fists primed to throw a left hook aimed at Sergei's mouth.

"Let me get this straight," he hissed, "you want me to partner our commanding officer's sister's friend to a concert."

"That's right," Sergei Karkoff replied with a grin, pushing one gloved fist away from his face. Then he thumped Chakotay's arm, a hard blow that would have made a less muscular man bark with pain. They were on the holodeck of the Ormskirk. Chakotay had worked up a sweat, his upper torso glistening from the exertion of hitting the punching bag in Boothby's Gym.

"I'd rather take my chances with Svetlana, but she's spoken for," Chakotay burst out as he delivered a hard wallop to the belly of the bag. It swung so hard that it hit Sergei who stumbled backwards.

"Hey, watch it, will you?"

"Stand away, then," Chakotay ordered as he punched the bag again. Sergei wasn't finished with his friend though, so he held the bag still, his stance a challenge.

"Svetlana sends her love. She wants you to visit next week. It's Anatoly's birthday."

"Your wife is damned near perfect. I don't do dates. I don't do concerts, Sergei."

"Chakotay, I swear, you hate your father, you hate concerts, so what else do you hate?"

"You setting me up with any woman in the Alpha Quadrant in the hope I'll finally get round to looking at someone else?'

Chakotay thumped the bag again with such force that Sergei landed on his bottom as the bag hit him square in the face. When he got to his feet, he complained:

"What I won’t do for my friend. It's just one night, Chak. Come on, Dalene asked so nicely. Actually, she wheedled a promise out of Svetlana, and you know how Dalene is - "

"And Dalene being Svetlana's friend," Chakotay cut in, "Dalene, who is the sister of Captain Petranoff. Dalene, huh." Chakotay was pointing with his gloved hand, mimicking an old man trying to figure out some perplexity. "This woman has a name?"

"Shall I tell you?"

Chakotay threw up his hands, giving the punching bag a short reprieve.

"Jeez, you're killing me, Sergei. I don’t know how long I can keep up with the suspense! Why should I care if I'm not going?"

Sergei stifled the urge to hurl the bag at Chakotay. He was fast losing it, Sergei thought. It was Svetlana who was worried about their best friend; she pressured him into coaxing Chakotay to play the field. Hell, he didn't care if the girl had ten large moles on her cheek, as long as Chakotay got out more.  The man was becoming far too melancholic, given to an introspection that had not been so prevalent during their Academy days.

"You know, Chakotay, I swear if I didn't know you, I'd actually dislike you. But as it is, we've been through the Academy together, and we - "

"Yes? What? You gonna tell me how I should get on with my life and how doing so would infinitely enhance my humanity, right?"

"Jeez, Chak. Give me a break, will you?" Sergei came nearer, but stood just left of the punching bag in case Chakotay let fly again in his direction.

"Do I know this - this…person…?"

Sergei pursed his lips. What the hell was wrong with Chakotay? It was enough that he made no contact with his father, made his mother unhappy because he didn't make contact with his father, angered his sister because he made his mother unhappy because he didn't make contact with his father. Nor did he have so much as a passing interest in women – even the most attractive of them left him stone cold. He could swear Chakotay was born with an ice cube where his heart should be. Why was the damned man so asexual? All men and women surely had the ability, the desire to connect on a sexual and sensual level with another person.

"No, you don't. I don't know her name. Dalene has too many friends that she thinks need a push in the right direction…"

Chakotay thought Sergei was lying his ass off, but he played along. Go with the flow, and maybe he'd get rid of the flotsam. Or something.

"Blind date, huh."

"I bet she's beautiful..." Sergei said contemplatively.

"Oh, Christ."

Chakotay pummelled the bag a few more times in an angry reaction to Sergei's words. Then he stopped abruptly and held out his hands to Sergei who proceeded to unlace the gloves. The gym was dark, with a dank, stale smell of smoke that hung in the air. Only the light on the boxing ring threw the room into some relief.

"You never been on one, right?"

"I'm  not about to start, so don't hold your breath."

Sergei studied Chakotay while he removed the Commander's gloves. Chakotay was a tough man, but also fair and loyal and proud. Sergei knew the trouble with Chakotay's father, who had wanted his son to embrace the beliefs and traditions of his father's people. At fifteen Chakotay had gone through the obligatory teen phase of rebelling, particularly against the ways of his people. Chakotay had been disdainful, arrogant, and brash.  However, by now, years down the line, much of the brashness, arrogance and disdain had been tempered, first by the discipline of the Academy and later by responsibility and the duty of command. Tempered, not gone. Chakotay still held that slight contempt for his father, faulting who Sergei thought was the kindest man who breathed, for his beliefs.

Chakotay was the handsomest devil in their class, and later, as Ensigns on their first ships, women had fawned over his friend. Sergei had thought that no one would look at a red-haired, freckle-faced tall thin man of Russian birth, the great-grandson of Pavel Chekov of the legendary Enterprise, given to drinking vodka always neat. Svetlana had looked at him. She looked at Pavel Chekov's great-grandson after she fell for Chakotay.

Sergei sighed. Svetlana loved him, Sergei, with great depth of passion, and he believed she had to go through a baptism of meeting Chakotay first, and then making the right decision of meeting, loving and marrying Chakotay's best friend. Women fell for Chakotay's dark looks, the short cropped raven black hair, the way his eyes narrowed when he smiled, the dimples, the warrior-like aggression that lurked just beneath the charm, the air of mystery - the whole package. Chakotay was just so damned…handsome. A waste, Sergei thought, after Caroline had been through with him.

Caroline.

The Viper he called her. Black Widow. Chakotay had fallen hard for Caroline Meissen. He had never had many liaisons with girls, and none that could be counted serious or unforgettable. Then Caroline came along. Special Medical Assistant -  an elevated name they gave to nurses.  Caroline had been wrong for Chakotay from the start. Sergei sighed. Her reputation had preceded her when she was commissioned to the same vessel he and Chakotay had been on while in their mid-twenties. She was into men. Chakotay was a gentle person at heart, so at odds with his bearing - a proud man, a private person. Caroline had played him like a violin, to what end, Sergei didn't know. He knew this: Caroline looked on Chakotay as a possible conquest; she conquered the heart of the warrior, made him defenceless, then dropped him like a hot potato. Then she moved on to the next man, to find something novel, something different on the menu elsewhere. There were many women like Caroline Meissen. They offered much, delivered little, then dumped the hapless victim. Only, Caroline didn’t wait to dump her man. Chakotay found her in her cabin one evening between men. Literally.

He had given her his heart, and she trashed it with cold disdain. After that, Chakotay steered very far away from women, not letting them within a parsec of his life. Those who did, entered and exited within hours.

"You gonna stare at me till we reach Earth's Orbital Station?" Chakotay asked. Sergei chuckled, then gave a sheepish grin.

"You know, a man finding someone really special, an honour, a privilege, to meet a woman whom he knows is going to be the one he wants to spend the rest of his days with - who knows? This might be your lucky break, Chak."

"I thought I had someone special."

Chakotay muttered under his breath, but Sergei caught the sudden glint of anger in his eyes. He sighed. It was the closest Chakotay had come to talking about Caroline. His friend had been badly burned; he wasn't walking into the lion's den again. But Svetlana had been adamant: Chakotay was heading for Starfleet Command one day where he would rival Admiral Owen McKenzie Paris and Admiral Nechayev as the most dour, terse, austere, unsmiling, bent-on-discipline, successfully hiding all feeling Admiral. It was Sergei's duty as his best friend to convert Chakotay to the idea that not all women were vipers and spiders. One way to do it was to introduce the lonely Native American to women who, she knew from reports, were beautiful, kind, tough and smart.

"Chakotay, for what it's worth, for that time it was special. But it's over my friend, and I - "

"I know it's over, damn it!"

"Fine. Then make me the happiest of friends and date this woman, take her to the Juilliard Command Performance Festival, and take her home afterwards. Have coffee with her, for God's sake. She's in Paris. You'll have to meet her there..." Sergei tugged at the laces and finally everything was loose.

"I'm not going." Chakotay pulled his hands out of the gloves and pressed his lips resolutely.

"It might be your last chance - "

With his hand free, Chakotay gripped Sergei's shoulders.

"Look, I'm fine. When we get home, I'll be off to Mexico, and next week, I will be at Anatoly's birthday party. We have five weeks, Sergei, and I intend to spend it alone."

Sergei didn't want to ask Chakotay why visiting his father Kolopak was not on his list. He had battled with Chakotay enough and felt a little bashed around, in a manner of speaking.

"The concert's on Friday night - "

'You don't listen, do you?"

"No, I don't. Now, what do you say?"

Chakotay gave a deep sigh as he gathered his tog bag and slung it over his shoulder. He knew he was acting like a boor. He had no inclination to go anywhere except to Mexico, when they disembarked. The thought of accompanying a woman, to a classical concert of all things, gave him the shivers. He relented finally.

"Okay, Sergei, I'll let you know on Wednesday."

Sergei pulled Chakotay into a giant Russian bear hug and kissed him on both cheeks so relieved he was.

"Hey, I haven't said yes!" Chakotay complained as he finally pushed Sergei away from him.

"That's okay. You're about four days away from meeting the woman of your dreams, my friend. Just you wait and see. Your life will never be the same again!"

"Yeah, right."

Chakotay believed Caroline had done enough to change his view of women forever. He needed to think, and going to so see Grey Eagle might just be the inspiration he needed. They exited the holodeck, walking briskly towards the first turbolift and hurried off to their respective quarters. Chakotay was due on the bridge.

He was hoping to get his own vessel soon. He had given up his Instructors post at Starfleet Academy and opted for active duty. It was where the action was, and he wanted to be there. It always thrilled him: the prospect of commanding his own ship, to apply his wide range of knowledge of tactical manoeuvring in battle situations. He knew all the traps and manoeuvres. He’d created a few new ones himself.  Now he was only one step away from getting his own ship.

Already, Evasive Manoeuvre Charlie Kord was credited to him, and he was awaiting accreditation on the Epileng Cross Manoeuvre. He sighed again as he entered his quarters. Sergei had given him something to ponder on, and he knew he'd spend the night rolling around restlessly, trying to manoeuvre out of a possible blind date.

*** 

Life on board the Ormskirk had spoiled him, Chakotay thought as he made his way across the dusty track to the compound where he knew he'd find Grey Eagle. The desert air was dry, the sun beat down on him. The sweat dripped into his eyes, the saltiness of it burning before he attempted to wipe his eyes with his handkerchief. He was hot, bothered, but he had wanted to see Grey Eagle before he went to his home base in San Francisco and mull over Sergei's threat to sever their friendship if he didn't escort whatshername to a command performance in France for the President of the Federation.

He stopped, took out a flask from his back pack, and drank thirstily, then he continued over the dusty terrain. He had always found Grey Eagle a most restful man, and one of the few concessions Chakotay made to his Native American heritage was visiting and acknowledging the wisdom of the old man.

Sergei was right. He had little inclination to go home to Dorvan V and spend some time with his family. Kolopak wore the sign of his tribe, given him in a ritual that the teenage Chakotay had found wasteful, irrelevant, so...out of touch with reality. Kolopak was deeply spiritual, an aspect of his character strengthen after their visit to the Rubber Tree People. As a young boy escorting his father, he had been irritable, impatient with Kolopak, and in a hurry to get home, and get into the Academy.

And now Sergei, who wanted to hitch him with a woman.

Chakotay sighed. The very thought of tying his destiny to another person left him in a state of panic. Even now as he approached the compound and could already see the figure of Grey Eagle sitting cross-legged working on a sculpture, just thinking that he'd have to sit next to someone he didn't know, smell her scent, inhale freshly washed hair, and have to be civil, courteous and nice, gave him the willies. He'd do that, but his heart belonged to him now, and no one else. It was his prize, his personal destiny, a precious treasure he was foolishly possessive enough not to want to share.

He had done that, and Caroline had trampled all over him. He had been mad, idiotic, brainless not to at the time, not to listen to kind and soft-spoken counsel from his closest friends, how one-dimensional Caroline was, how shallow and devious, crude when not in his company, coarse and malicious. He had been simply Caroline's passing fancy, while he... Chakotay sighed. He was stupid. Stupid, stupid! He’d loved her with the voracious appetite of his youth, had believed every utterance of love and loyalty, every pledge to be by his side forever, had imagined that no other woman could ever pleasure him in bed and he pleasure her in their lovemaking like Caroline. He had spoken of marriage, of having babies with her. How had he missed the signals, the manner in which she cleverly managed to avoid making any commitment? How had he missed the sympathetic and sometimes unkind glances of fellow crew on a large vessel like the Exeter? They had known… With hindsight he realised they had been participants…that they thought he knew what was happening.

The day he surprised Caroline in her quarters… He had been excited, thrilled at being based at Headquarters and taking up his first posting as an instructor in Tactical Training. He wanted to tell her they could have a life together, permanently. He had a ring in his pocket. He closed his eyes, tried to block out the shame, the humiliation of seeing her. She had taken a look at him from where she had been wedged between two men who were fucking her, paused momentarily to release herself from one and asked: "Want to help fuck me, Chakotay?" There was a look on her face, flushed and cruel , smiling malevolently at him as she invited him to join in. The men, one junior officer and one crewman he recognised vaguely, smirked when they looked at him, then continued grunting all over Caroline. She had dropped all reserve, all former courtesy and decency. He had been repulsed. He had known in that instant, realised with belated and blinding insight, that what he was witnessing was not a first time occurrence. Riding hot on that realisation came the knowledge that he had been only a diversion from her crude sexual practices. Hardly had he recovered from his shock when she turned her attention away from him, pulled her partner back into her mouth and continued as if Chakotay had never been there and if she was accustomed to having an audience. The caring and concerned warning of his friends, his own denial had only hit him later. His heart bled for years at the way Caroline treated him.

He was not going to walk down that road again. Never.

He reached Grey Eagle and stood, watching in silence how the old man used his knife to carve and sculpt from the raw piece of wood. He knew sometime soon during his conversation with the old man, that piece of wood would be a gleaming eagle...

"You take away my sun, Cha-ko-tay," the old man breathed without looking up.

Chakotay smiled at the way the old man knew it was him and said his name with such an inflection in his voice. Kolopak did the same... Chakotay quickly shifted so that he stood on the other side of Grey Eagle. The old Indian waved with his hand - the one holding the knife - for Chakotay to seat himself on a broad stump opposite him.

"Greetings, Grey Eagle." Chakotay removed his back pack and put it down next to him.

The old man didn't look up and continued carving, smoothing, rubbing the wood lovingly with knotty fingers.

"Greetings to you too, son of Kolopak."

"I seek your counsel, Grey Eagle," Chakotay said without preamble.

"I know."

"Then you know that I hesitate..."

"It troubles you, the thought that you would lose your heart again to a woman?"

Only then did Grey Eagle look up. He was a study in contrasts, Chakotay thought. A Native American who had grey eyes, it was this feature that won the old man that name. He had come out of his mother's womb furiously waving  his arms. His skin was as tanned as Chakotay's, but his movements were gentle; the way he caressed the wood was testimony to his love of creating a work of art out of a piece of dead wood. The wood came alive in Grey Eagle's hands. Alive and beautiful, breathing depth and mellowness at the same time.  The man was a visionary. He had to be. Chakotay had made no mention of his date, yet Grey Eagle homed in on his dilemma.

And a dilemma it was. He felt apprehensive, felt like he was fifteen again and couldn't breathe whenever Cadet Inam had walked past him at the Academy. When Inam actually halted in front of him one day, smiled at him with her golden brown eyes, he thought he'd die of asphyxiation. No, it wasn't really that kind of apprehension, he conceded. It was a mix of fear, of deep mistrust of women, and the fact that he'd have to be close to one for one whole evening and talk.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had liaisons after Caroline. He shuddered. For a while he had gone on a rutting rampage. He’d punished every woman, had rough sex with her, then moved on. If he admitted it to himself, he was acting pretty much like Caroline. Still, he had laid down the parameters every time he had sex: _When it's over, it's over. I walk. You walk. No one gets hurt_. 

Eventually he got tired. It had to happen. He was searching, not finding. He stopped searching, so the finding became irrelevant. Now, he had to make a decision. It would have been easy to say no to Sergei. It should have been easy, no discussion involved. So why was he even considering it?

Why, indeed?

"I have armoured myself, Grey Eagle."

"No one is ever armoured, Cha-ko-tay, no matter how thick the metal." Grey Eagle looked up, squinting as he stared at Chakotay. "You wish to challenge an old man on that?"

"No. I don't. I have to accompany a woman to a concert."

Chakotay gave a deep sigh. There, it was out. An admission, if ever there was one, that he was curious enough to meet the woman, that he might be making himself vulnerable again. It was no longer hesitating to make a decision; no longer an easy refusal, but an acknowledgement that he wanted to do it.

"A beautiful woman, Cha-ko-tay."

"I have never seen her, Grey Eagle."

Grey Eagle was still for a long time. His fingers deftly manipulated the wood; he was engrossed in smoothing the rough edges with his knife. Chakotay watched as the old man worked. Already he could see the wings, the head and curved beak of the eagle. Grey Eagle's long white hair hung loosely over his shoulders; he looked like…an angel. Chakotay smiled inwardly. An old man with wings… Then Grey Eagle looked up at the brilliant blue sky. He followed the old man's gaze. Silhouetted against the sun, an eagle soared, higher and higher, executing exquisite aerial manoeuvres. Then it hovered above them, as if it knew the two men were watching it. Chakotay simply stared, unable to put the beauty of the visual spectacle into words, knowing that no man has ever managed to emulate completely, a magnificent eagle in flight.

"See there, Chakotay? In flight, there is nothing more natural, more majestic than the eagle as it climbs against the sky. See how she spreads her wings? She's confident, knows where and what her destination is...and those destinations she doesn't know, she flies towards by instinct, even if danger lurks at the next turn...even if she doesn't know what lies at the end…"

Chakotay gazed as the eagle hovered against the sun, before swiftly making off into the distance. He couldn't decide whether Grey Eagle was referring to the bird, or the woman he was supposed to accompany. What he knew was that Grey Eagle's philosophy, so home-spun and without pretence, had calmed him. He was touched by the old man's simplicity, his close to the earth lifestyle that was so at variance with twenty fourth century day to day living. For a moment Kolopak's face flashed before Chakotay. He saw the tattoo, remembered the day the tribal elders of the Rubber Tree People had painted the symbol above Kolopak's left eyebrow… Then he closed his eyes, willing away the kind eyes of his father. He looked at Grey Eagle, and for the first time the man's face relaxed into a gentle smile.

"Yes, that is the way of the warrior…" Grey Eagle added, then became interested in his wood carving again, the knife moving with dextrous ease over the sculpture.

Chakotay chuckled. He felt relieved.

"You are telling me I must follow my heart and await my destiny."

"I am telling you that you are a fool to be afraid, Cha-ko-tay. These are the risks of life, and if you do not take them, you will never know."  Grey Eagle waved the knife in front of Chakotay as he spoke.

Chakotay understood that logic. He was curious about seeking out new worlds, finding the unexpected on different worlds that constantly amazed him. Most of them held an element of risk, but he was hungry, thirsty for knowledge and exploration. So why should he be afraid of a date? Hell, he had only to get to the woman's door, hold out his arm, have her rest her hand on it, and they'd be off to the concert. What could be worse than that?

The risk of losing his heart. He wasn't willing to do that and have Caroline's malevolent eyes stare at him through that of a beautiful woman. That's what. Still, his old curiosity, his pledge to Sergei to give his friend a call, his conversation with Grey Eagle who was as mysterious as the life he found so full of mystery and challenge, won the day.

Maybe it was time.

"I guess I will never know if I don't go, right?"

"Cha-ko-tay, you do not know this woman; you will fly to this destination not knowing what is the risk. She will do the same. Your destiny will be woven."

"How do you know, Grey Eagle?"

"Because out of the unknown has often sprung life's greatest gifts."

Chakotay couldn't argue with such sage expressions. He didn't necessarily believe the contents, but the passionately prophetic manner in which Grey Eagle spoke, the conviction in his voice, settled the turmoil in Chakotay. The Indian's words calmed him, and he felt a momentary regret at not staying any longer. He would have liked to remain for days in Grey Eagle's company. Perhaps another time.

Chakotay smiled, nodded, then rose from his seat. Grey Eagle's hand shot out.

"Here, let this be your gift to her."

Surprised, Chakotay took the eagle. The old man had been shaving, carving, polishing and Chakotay had hardly realised it, but when he held the wooden carving in his hand, it lay there on his palm, complete, reverently kissed by the sun's rays. Perfect, its wings spread, each feature appointed, clear and so real, Chakotay thought it could fly off his hand any time.

"T-Thank you," Chakotay stammered, too awed that Grey Eagle had given him something rare, precious, not so much in the physical sense, but also in the symbolic meaning behind the presentation of the gift. "I will give it to the lady..." he promised.

"Now, be off with you, Cha-ko-tay. One day, bring your destiny here..."

Chakotay nodded again, and without speaking another word, he left Grey Eagle who had already picked up another piece of wood and was again preoccupied, carving away at it.

*** 

It was Wednesday and Chakotay had been busy planning another sand painting, and listening to Mozart's clarinet concerto. He didn't particularly like classical music, but he didn't want to look totally out of touch with all things cultural, especially in the sphere of music, when he met his date. A little warmth spread in him; his heart quickened at the prospect of Friday evening. He was curious to see and he wanted to get the evening over and done with. After that he could get on with his life and hope that Sergei would leave him alone for a while.

"Computer, who is the soloist in this recording of the concerto?"

"Cadet Harry S. Kim, of the Juilliard Youth Orchestra."

Chakotay continued with his painting. A woman in a long, flowing gossamer gown, her features pale and faint, yet at the same time distinct. There was an ethereal touch to the figure, as if it could float away and dissolve into the light. He smiled. It was the first time since his teen days that he had unearthed his old skill again. He was surprised at his own deftness, that he hadn't lost his touch. He hadn't stopped to wonder what brought on this sudden burst of creativity. His work first as an instructor, then on starships had somehow fulfilled his driving need to explore the heavens. He had all but moved it to a place in his heart where lay his capacity for loving, gentility, vulnerability. He grimaced. Caroline had seen to it that there was nothing left of him. Working like this was always a risk. He smiled, thinking of Grey Eagle's words. In his work he laid bare his soul, and offered anyone looking closely enough, ammunition to destroy him if they chose.

His vidcom beeped and he looked up distractedly, realising he hadn't contacted Sergei yet. Sighing, he got up. Sergei was going to give ten whoops of delight, and then say, "Comrade, I told you you would do it." He hated gloating.

Chakotay switched on his console.

"Have you decided?"

No greeting, no preamble. Sergei looked as if he’d been exercising extremely hard outdoors and as if Chakotay had been running alongside him. The man was already so thin. Sergei was flushed. Had he run inside from somewhere? Chakotay wondered. No matter.

"I have."

"And?"

"It's a deal."

Chakotay closed his eyes as Sergei let fly with a victory cry. Then he looked at his friend again. Sergei grinned maliciously.

"You won't be sorry, comrade. Now, shall I give you the dirty low-down or just a plain rundown on the lady?"

"Lady?"

"Indeed, comrade."

"I don't want to know. She may have ten moles, though that won't matter."

Sergei was quiet a moment, his look pensive. Chakotay frowned.

"What?"

"She's the daughter of an admiral."

"Oh, Christ, Sergei! Now you're telling me! I hate those brats. And - and they're full of themselves." Chakotay pulled his face and Sergei guffawed. At the Academy Cadet Wegenstrom, daughter of an admiral, had been the most obnoxious brat who wouldn't leave the two of them alone.

"She's about your age - "

"Wegenstrom?"

"Hell, no! But, I'm not telling."

"I'm not going."

"You bloody well will go, dammit! I didn't go to all this trouble for nothing - "

"What trouble? Looking up a name in the Federation database?"

"Hell, Chak, you know you could  have done that too. Why didn't you?"

"I wasn't interested enough? Or, dare I say it, _comrade,_ since this is a blind date, let's keep it blind?"

"Chakotay, Svetlana is going to skin me alive if you don't go..."

Chakotay gave a deep sigh, then a smile spread slowly on his face.

"Tell Svetlana she's not to worry. She mustn't skin you, I'll do that myself, and she must bake my favourite cake."

"Black Forest."

"She can replicate it - "

"Don't you dare! You know how Svetlana is. She hates replicators."

"Now there's someone my father would like - "

Sergei groaned at the sarcastic tone of Chakotay's voice.

"Come on now, Chakotay. Leave your father out of this."

"Fine. Where am I supposed to meet her, did you say?"

"In Paris, you imbecile. Here's the address. Be there!"

Sergei spent a few seconds punching in the address. When he finished, Chakotay looked at him.

"I hope I'll not regret this, Sergei Karkoff. I hope I won't..."

 

**** 

 END CHAPTER ONE

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

She’d wanted to curse Mark. Curse him ten times over and then again.

"I'm sorry, Kath. It's something that's come up, and we have to sit in with the mediators of Almari  IV to give them some idea on how to continue resolving the conflict there."

"Oh, Mark..."

She had sighed heavily, pouted, knew it was childish to pout, before her eyes flashed angrily. It wasn't that she didn't want Mark to travel off world to Almari IV, but that they had a date. A date! He’d promised! She wanted to go the concert. There wasn't going to be another Command Performance for the President of the Federation sometime soon. At least not one that she would be able to attend. She'd be reassigned by then and the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity would be gone forever. And, she'd had the tickets since her return from Deep Space Nine.

"I'm sorry, Kath. Kiss me?" he'd asked.

He’d looked so like a penitent pup that she melted a little. Mark was so loveable, so huggable that she’d stood on tiptoe to reach him and planted a perfunctory kiss on his cheek. When she’d rested back on her heels again, she saw the fleeting flash of disappointment in his eyes that the kiss wasn't anything more than friendship. She sighed. Mark loved her and she just wanted a friend. But he was so good about it, never pressuring her, accepting that he would be her friend always. They always attended functions together whenever she was back in Paris or in her late father's apartment in San Francisco. Mark was so good about it. Another man would have asked, "Is taking you to functions the function of my life"?

Kathryn paced her living room. She was restless, it was Friday and her date was supposed to press her bell at exactly 1930. She had no idea who he was, no idea of what kind of deal she was getting, how the man looked, whether he liked classical music. Hell, she was as bad as those types who used the Federation's dating service to show up at events. What the hell was she doing? Scraping the barrel? Where the devil did all the men in the Alpha Quadrant go?

Why didn't she just say no to Dalene? That woman! She had barely mentioned that Mark was going to be tied up elsewhere when Dalene pounced.

"Kathryn, you've got to go to the concert. Don't worry about Mark. I'll find someone."

"I beg your pardon? I'm not destitute, Dalene, or in the hunt for a man - "

"Yeah, like you could have married Mark five years ago, or God forbid, _slept_ with him!"

"Dalene!" Kathryn exclaimed, her face registering shock. It was true. She could never bring herself to sleep with Mark…

Dalene threw up her hands in defence as Kathryn leaned closer to her. They had been on one of their rare get togethers, enjoying lunch at Starfleet Headquarters. .

"Okay, okay! Don't hurt me!" Dalene cried theatrically.

Kathryn looked at her, then sighed resignedly. Dalene's look changed from mirth to contrition. She reached over the table to touch Kathryn's hand.

"So, Mark's going to Almari IV and he leaves you stranded  - "

"It's not like he owes me, Dalene."

"Or owns you, sure. But you've not been serious about anyone in a while - "

"You know, Dalene, we're friends, but don't go taking me up as a lost cause, will you? I'm pretty sure I can manage." She hadn't wanted Dalene to mention a period in her life that had been most painful, when she thought that dying was better than being alive.

Dalene remained silent for five seconds.

"Fine. Then go out! Take someone else to the concert - "

"You don't want to go with me?"

"Kathryn! How boring can you get?"

For a few minutes Kathryn remained quiet, not replying to Dalene, and concentrated on her pasta.

Dalene had blonde hair, almost white, with liquid brown eyes. She was a beautiful woman, Kathryn thought, although so self-sufficient and self-contained that a man at her side was regarded as merely a nuisance. Kathryn thought privately that Dalene's heart had been captured, but the man in question shied away from attachments such as Dalene would have appreciated. But at the moment, she played the field in a light, flirtatious manner. In which case, if anyone did get serious, it would be regarded as a nuisance…

Kathryn sighed. If she were honest with herself, she had begun to look on Mark that way, the moment he wanted to widen their friendship to something more. She wasn't ready for that, and her reticence when he wanted to embrace her a trifle longer, wanted the kiss on the cheek to become a kiss on the lips had been enough to send him a clear message of her needs. Or lack thereof. She shrank back from the thought that Mark Johnson had wanted to make love to her on so many occasions.

Still, to her, he was the kindest man on earth - kind and gentle with a great capacity for loving. She didn't love him, and she knew it would be grossly unfair to give him any kind of encouragement that she'd want to take their friendship in a different direction.

With friendship, it was so easy. There was a great deal of the _known_ about it, something enduring, something where there was a mutual understanding, a trust that no boundaries would be overstepped. In that respect there was a predictability about being friends with Mark and, she thought with growing alarm, it’s still a possibility, even if a remote one that it would be predictable and pedestrian were they in an intimate relationship. After Justin... She gave a heavy sigh as she lifted her fork, the utensil hovering near her mouth. After Justin...

"You're thinking of him, huh..."

Kathryn put her fork down slowly. Her eyes clouded suddenly, a pensiveness filling them.

"I can't go through that again, Day..." she said softly.

"Hey," Dalene said, realising how serious the conversation was suddenly becoming, "you won't know if you don’t at least try..."

"Look, Day, leave me alone, will you?"

"I wish I could, Kath. But you're my friend and I care. I haven't seen any sparkle in your eyes since - since well, you know... And dear Mark is sure as hell not putting it there. So where to now, Kathryn my sweet?"

Kathryn gave a light laugh, her eyes suddenly bright.

"To the concert, I daresay. I shall walk on the arm of an old, decrepit gentleman you found somewhere in the outer reaches of Federation space and who is so woefully out of touch with humanity that I'll want to scream, vomit, then scream again. I shall be sitting in the third row from the front - by the way, they're the best seats in the House - with the same old gentleman who will have fallen asleep halfway through the Allegro of Mozart's Clarinet Concerto, and who shall irritate the audience immediately in front and behind us because he will be snoring so loudly."

Dalene burst out laughing.

"Kathryn, just for that I ought to set you up with such a man!"

"Don't you dare!"

"Will you, huh,  Kath?" Dalene asked, smiling sweetly, swinging her fork at her friend in a wheedling manner. Kathryn relented.

"Oh, okay. I don't want to know who he is, mind you - "

"A blind date?" Dalene Petranoff pounced instantly at the insinuation of Kathryn's words. "You're actually agreeing to a blind date? Kathryn Janeway?"

"Why are you twisting everything, Dalene Petranoff?"

"You're not too old for that?" Dalene insisted, ignoring Kathryn's annoyance at her own slip that made her friend swoop with such great alacrity.

"I certainly didn't mean it quite as you put it. I just don't want to go searching the Federation database and know beforehand the man taking me to a concert is a _louse._ It's so... _humiliating_..."

"I get your point. You're curious enough to go sniffing around and I'll just go _'shame on you, Kath'_ for checking out the wares before you're buying?"

Kathryn choked on the  pasta and coughed for a few seconds. When she looked at Dalene again, noting the smirk on her friend's face, she was ready to crawl somewhere under a rock and never come out.

"Is this conversation over?" she asked.

"For now, honey. I'll let you know on Thursday. Not a day later - "

"I don't know why I agreed to this. It's not like me, you know, Day."

"For once in your life be impulsive, Kathryn. Do something against the grain for heaven's sake, colour outside the lines, if you will. Just...do it!"

*** 

She knew if she looked down there'd be a path burned in the carpet where she paced continuously. She hadn't felt this nervous in years, not since that big lummox of an oaf Will Riker tried to date her and bed her. She had been stand-offish with him and... She sighed. They had called her Ice Maiden at the Academy. She wasn't like that at all. She had just been overly withdrawn, shy of men at the time, and Will Riker had been the consummate playboy. His overtures had intimidated her, and when she could finally breathe again, she stood her ground against him and he’d been none to happy at the put-down. Hence the ice-maiden tag. Now, she laced her fingers nervously, and if she had still been in that over-shy teen stage when she was so raw, she'd be chewing her nails to the quick.

She had no idea who her companion was to be for the evening. Earlier, she had stood in her bedroom, seriously considering calling it off and returning to San Francisco to her parents' apartment. It was hers now, since her mother had retired to their home in Indiana. She could stay there and lie all evening on her bed, hands behind her head, and think of the chance she’d thrown away. No, better to get it done. She wanted to go to the concert, didn't she?

Now her mirror - or rather, her face – taunted her as she stood in front of her dresser. The droop of her mouth was quickly restored to an upward curve of her lips. What the hell, she didn't care if he snored. Now why would she think that? Why would she know if he snored? Why should she even care? Didn't that suggest - horror of horrors - that she'd have to be in bed with the man for at least a few hours before she would get insight into his sleeping habits? Oh, well, it might not be like that. She didn't have to bed anyone to know what they did while they were sleeping. All she had to do was play peeping Tom and listen.

Her face broke into a grin. She shook her head at the direction her thoughts had taken her. Her hair looked good, which was a plus. When it was loose, it flowed down her back. However, tonight, after washing it, willing it into a semblance of order, she had decided to pull it into a tight bun.   But then she had second thoughts.

"No, that won't do. Too stiff, too schoolmarmish."

She didn't want to leave that impression, not even with the snoring old fogey from the outer reaches of Federation space, who wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself. She shuddered at that thought. She twisted her hair in all sorts of knots, even trying to make a French braid and pinning it in an inward curve at the nape.

Kathryn groaned. Why was she doing this? Certainly, being in an auditorium full of people was not going to sway her choice of hairstyle one way or the other. She didn't care too much for some admirals' wives who dressed up and never down, so why was she even making so much effort?

"Let's face it, Kathryn. You thrive on the unknown, and your companion for the evening is as as much an unknown as the furthest star in the furthest quadrant."

Only, she knew, that was a bald faced lie. All she had to do was look him up. Call Dalene. Or something. It was a grand delusion.

Finally, she settled on a soft chignon.

"Okay, Janeway, do it."

She appraised her dress: a long, flowing gown that would make the President's wife look twice, and then again. In deep burgundy, it was of a soft velvet that appeared to change colour and texture as she moved. She’d had it designed for this occasion, spoiling herself for once. Raoul loved her, said she was his inspiration. Her hands went to her hips, smoothing down the dress over them, striking a seductive pose and pouting naughtily.

Most of the human males at the performance, she knew from experience, would be dressed in tuxedos; others would wear their dress uniforms if they were high ranking officers of Starfleet. She wondered for a moment what her companion would be wearing. He was in Starfleet, that much she knew. She rather preferred being out of uniform on occasions such as tonight. Her father had been a lifetime member of the Juilliard School of Arts, and upon his death, she had gained membership. She hoped her escort liked classical music. If he didn't, he'd better put up a good show of liking it, or look at least interested.

She missed Justin, she thought with some alarm. He had been dead ten years, but she still missed him. He didn't hadn’t had much of a liking for music. Still, she missed him because he’d constantly challenged her and she loved him. That was the bottom line. She had loved Justin, and she was always going to measure any man whom she remotely considered as a soul partner, against what she’d had with Justin. It was why she couldn't love Mark. No, she corrected herself. Even without Justin, she would not have been able to love Mark, as kind and as gentle as he was. She was not the bed hopping type, and thought that Dalene was more likely to run in and out of the no-strings-attached relationships.

Sometimes, sometimes she could still see the despair on Justin's face, on her father's face as the shuttle went down in the icy water of Tau Ceti Prime. It haunted her, their eyes, the knowledge in them that they knew they were going to die, that they knew there was little she could do herself. She had not been a good person in the months following Justin's death. Sunk in deep depression, she had wallowed, seen their faces flitting by her, in slow motion, frame after frame after frame. Some nights she had woken up screaming, then she couldn't sleep afterwards, walking around the house in the darkness. Then the loneliness ate at her. She'd sit on the porch and watch the moon. It would be so close, suspended against the black sky, that she could reach out and touch it almost. More than anything, watching the moon silently drifting by had given her a sense of calm, and she'd be centred again for a few more hours another day.

In the early hours of the morning she'd get up from the swing seat, cramped and stiff, but she'd feel better inside. She'd become good at not sleeping... Most of the time she'd lie in bed and mull over this dictum, a silent affirmation of her own plight:

"Why love, when losing hurts so much?"

In the harrowing, dark days after losing Justin, she had asked herself that question a thousand times.

And so she had taken on armour, clothed herself in it and protected her heart.

Now she considered her actions. In a few minutes, someone was going to knock on her door and for one evening she'd be in his company. She could get it over and done with. It was only a concert, a man sitting next to her. Big deal. So why was she so nervous?

Her hand went to her neck and trembled as she touched the pendant. She had decided on the gold and diamond pendant and matching earrings to offset her burgundy dress. She hoped she looked good for her companion, or that at least, he would appreciate her appearance. In that she had given in to a little vanity, lightly touching up her lipstick again, then smoothing her chignon. She turned this way and that way, making certain not a hair was out of place.

Kathryn rocked up suddenly when her doorbell chimed. Taking in a deep breath, patting her hips again, she walked slowly to the living room. She stood at the door and when the chime sounded again, she pressed a key and the door slid open.

He had been looking down, one hand braced against the door jamb; when the light from her living room fell on him, he looked at her and straightened up suddenly. Kathryn stood rooted to the spot for endless seconds, just staring at him. He was dressed in a black tuxedo after all. His skin was tanned, a natural tan, she thought absently, and his hair was pitch black, like a raven's and cropped short. He smiled, and dimples formed in his cheeks. Kathryn blinked and stared again. He had to be the most handsome human male she had seen in a long time. He towered above her, standing with his hands at his sides. One hand held a small package. She wanted to smile, but her face was stiff. She could see there was an imperceptible tremble about his fingers. Did he dread this moment too? she wondered. For one crazy moment she was glad that she wasn't the only one whose heart had to be fluttering like mad.

He remained standing on the threshold, a question in his eyes. She was still staring stupidly at him when he spoke finally.

"Sergei told me you had ten moles and a wart." There was a teasing lilt in his voice, a twinkle in his eyes, something of a relief too, that she didn't have ten moles and a wart. Still, Kathryn found the action involuntary as her hand went to her face to touch an imaginary wart.

Her voice was low, husky when she replied, equally teasing. At least, she hoped that was what it sounded like.

"I was expecting to see an old man from the outer reaches of Federation space, an old fogey out of touch with humanity and who snored." Kathryn emphasised the 'snored' as if that very thought repulsed her.

"Then I'm glad I don't snore. Hello, I'm Chakotay - "

"Oh! You must think me rude! I am Kathryn Janeway. Please, do come in…"

"Kathryn Janeway?" Chakotay frowned as he took a few steps into her living room and Kathryn, a little flustered by the way Chakotay stared at her, touched her hair nervously. She looked at him, still dazed at his height, his bearing, the handsome face. "Admiral Janeway was your father?" he asked a little superfluously. She nodded, wondering if that counted against her. She hoped not. This man was not to be turned away. He had to take her to a concert, he had to talk to her, he had to escort her to her home…He had to… Her mind was in a whirl. Did Chakotay even know of the charm he exuded? He appeared so unaware of it… Then he spoke again, breaking into her meanderings.

"Oh, I have something for you." Chakotay lifted his hand, the one that held the package. "A gift. You don't have to look at it right now. Perhaps when you return home…" He held it out to her. "You look surprised," he said as she took the gift. "M-Maybe," he stammered suddenly, "I should have brought you a - a corsage?" She shook her head vehemently, wanting to kick herself mentally for disturbing her neat hairdo.

"Well, naturally, I didn't expect this," she said quickly, assuaging his concern. "I should kill Dalene, probably. You're nothing that I expected, though I'm certain we must have crossed paths in the Academy…" she said a little reflectively.

"It's custom, isn't it? To give one's companion a little gift before leaving on a date…"

"I…don't know such a one, Chakotay."

"Well then, Kathryn Janeway, I've just created a new tradition - "

"You say that as if - as if there…" Kathryn paused suddenly, knowing instantly that the entire idea, the prospect of future meetings with this man would be folly. Folly, folly, folly. But for the moment, sweet nectar breezed through her veins and suddenly, the evening took on a whole new colour and ambience. She was looking forward to walking with a stranger, and curiously, not feeling strange. More than that, Kathryn Janeway thought, she was going to the Performance on the arm of one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. _Oh, bless you, Dalene…_

She had a sudden urge to open the package.

"Because if you do," he continued as if he didn't hear the faltering in her voice, and sensing that she wanted to open it anyway, "bad luck will fall upon you…"

Then Kathryn burst out laughing. She felt infinitely lighter than she had in months, like a bubbling brook, or a butterfly suddenly discovering it could spread its wings and fly off, or an eagle climbing the heavens as if there were no boundaries. She liked that sound. She felt it and she felt good. She put the gift down on the table and collected her purse. When she turned and looked at him again, her heart almost flipped. Chakotay was uncommonly attractive, his good looks enhanced by his starched white shirt and the contrast of the black suit, as well as the dimples. He'd held his arm to her;  she smiled and placed her hand on his. Minutes later they were in their transport to the Bayreuth Concert Hall.

Kathryn was quiet on the way, so aware of him that she was afraid to stir, to create any movement that might make him look at her and cause the heat to spread through her body again. She wanted to tell herself he wasn't real, there couldn't possibly be men in this age who were still gentlemen. So she trained her gaze on something in the flitter, or outside, something non-threatening like the stars, which were so far away. Chakotay was as preoccupied, remaining almost motionless. Perhaps, the thought went through Kathryn, he was experiencing the same warmth that had been filling her since she had laid eyes on him. Perhaps, she thought with self-derision, she was being too in thinking that he might be as affected by her presence as she was by his.

She inhaled his cologne, faint and understated, and tried hard not to close her eyes and emit a moan of pure pleasure. For a moment she pondered on her reaction to Chakotay. She had never responded like this to anyone. _I'm not an impressionable teenager. I'm a thirty five year old mature woman being taken out by a mature man. So why am I reacting like this?_ There was a thrill coursing through her, a secret pleasure which made her insides curl, that she would be entering the foyer of the concert hall on the arm of a tall, dark and very, very handsome man.

When they arrived, Chakotay was the perfect gentleman, courteous and smiling. For a moment Kathryn was reminded of an eighteenth century knight who bowed with a flourish, before his hand touched her back lightly and they entered the foyer of the concert hall.

"Well, Kathryn Janeway," he whispered close to her, "we're here…"  Chakotay's breath fanned the fine hair at her nape and Kathryn shivered deliciously. She looked up briefly at him and gave a smile that made her lips curve at the corner. There was a twinkle in her eyes. Her hand squeezed his arm and she sidled instinctively closer to him. Did she imagine that Chakotay pressed closer to her?

"I think, Chakotay, I am going to enjoy the evening after all…"

**** 

It was Admiral Paris who remarked to his wife later that his former protégé had an uncommonly healthy sparkle in her eyes. They had met in the foyer of the concert hall and the Admiral had been impressed by the young man who accompanied her. He had known Chakotay as a cadet under his tutelage in his first year as a rookie fifteen year old, who, even then, was already showing the makings of a brilliant military tactician.

"It is not surprising that they made such an eye-catching couple, Owen. Chakotay is very attractive. Everyone was watching them…"

"They do stand out, don't they?" Admiral Paris remarked.

"And she looked so…how can I say? Something that came from inside her, you know. Like joy…" 

Elizabeth Paris gave a sigh that made her husband look sharply at her, then he turned to observe the couple. From their vantage point at the other end of the foyer, they could see how Chakotay and Kathryn interacted with other patrons whom they. Kathryn did indeed sparkle as she laughed, talking with some animation, her eyes constantly going to the man beside her. Chakotay looked contented, smiling down at her as if no one else existed around them, very pleased as his hand sometimes reached for Kathryn's back when he steered her way to walk towards other couples or patrons.

"Kathryn has had a hard time of it, Elizabeth," Owen Paris said as they returned to their seats after the interval. "It's good that she has found someone again." Elizabeth wondered for a moment how Owen could speak as if he were convinced beyond doubt that Chakotay was to be a permanent fixture in Kathryn Janeway's life.

"It's rather sudden, don't you think, Owen love?"  she asked. "I've never seen her with that good-looking young man before. So polite and chivalrous."

"He certainly is, my Elizabeth. There is depth in him. I can sense he has goodness in him."

"I daresay!"

"You do?" Owen asked as he looked with their son Tom's eyes at her. Her heart leaped again. Owen was her man…

"Owen" she said softly her voice urgent as she leaned closer to him. "Chakotay looked completely bowled over by Kathryn. Did you see how he couldn't keep his eyes off her?" She paused, then asked again, "And you say they met only tonight?" There was incredulity in her voice, but also an enigmatic edge as Owen looked into her eyes, a warmth spreading through him. When he had met her, he had given Elizabeth Illingsworth one look and knew he'd never be the same man again.

"Yes, I understand Mark was unable to escort her."

Elizabeth was tempted to add 'more pity Mark' when Owen spoke again.

"But you know what, Lizzie?"

He knew she hated being called Lizzie. He had no hair she could pull later tonight at the apartment in San Francisco, but she'd think of some other unique punishment.

"What?" 

"There's something about Chakotay…an unpredictable edge, something lurking beneath the debonair appearance, a mix of…."

"Excitement, gentility and danger?"

"Precisely that," Admiral Paris reflected. He leaned closer to her. "Precisely that…"

"Then we should pity Mark. He is not the man to make Kathryn Janeway's heart rush like a wild brook."

"Chakotay," continued the Admiral just as the orchestra launched into the first bars of Mozart's clarinet concerto, "is just the man Kathryn needs to tame her. She is by far the most wilful person I know…"

"Oh?"

"After my own Elizabeth, naturally," he conceded. then added softly, …"and Tom…"

For a moment she saw how her husband's eyes clouded, became sad. Their son had not been home for months although he was in Marseilles… So Elizabeth, in order to drive the clouds away, pulled her husband's brief preoccupation away from their son and said:

"I'd like to see Kathryn alive again, Owen. I'd like to see the old fire return to her eyes - "

"Shhh…"

Admiral and Mrs Paris immediately halted their conversation, realising that their whispering distracted the other patrons, and once Elizabeth imagined she had actually seen Chakotay stiffen and look back as if he heard his name. Kathryn and her companion were sitting only two rows in front of them, and though they seemed engrossed with the concerto, their heads were close together like two young people in love.

Elizabeth kept staring at the head of Chakotay. The soloist, Harry S Kim, still a cadet at Starfleet Academy, was quietly fading from her conscious mind as she ruminated on the couple sitting in front of them. If it weren't for her dear Owen McKenzie, she'd be just as bowled over by the man who looked so dashing, so enigmatic in his tuxedo. Owen was wearing his dress uniform and he looked dashing too, but Chakotay's colouring somehow enhanced the suit. Fortunately, her dear sweet Owen, not a man commonly given to extravagantly outward displays of emotion, and sometimes too austere for the liking of many cadets at the Academy, had bowled her over long ago; now she was happily exercising her power over him. Mr Chakotay, so devilishly handsome on the outside, with a predatory lurk just beneath the exterior, was in for a great shock, if he should so much as think that men were the powers that be of the universe, or that he'd have Kathryn Janeway under his control.

Why, she, Elizabeth, had her dear sweet Owen happily eating out of _her_ hands, and there was no earthly reason that Mr Chakotay, whose destiny she believed had been sealed by a pair of very fine eyes, wouldn't sit like a bird and eat happily out of Kathryn Janeway's hands. It said much for their sex that they could create the appearance of their men harbouring illusions that they were in charge. There was no doubt about it, that blind date or not, sudden meeting for one night only or not, this night was not going to be the end for Kathryn and Chakotay. Look how his head moved ever so closer to Kathryn, and how Kathryn was turning her head to cast him a glance. She was just as absorbed in Chakotay as he was in her, and poor Cadet Kim could play as brilliantly as he ever would in his life, but Elizabeth Rowena Paris could tell that Kathryn and Chakotay did not hear a single note of the Adagio.

***

The trip back to Paris had been too short for Kathryn Janeway. The whole evening she had been so aware of Chakotay that she couldn't concentrate on Harry Kim's performance. She had given Chakotay cursory glances all evening, and one or two times she’d caught him staring at her just as she turned to look at him. He had been quiet on the journey, and she had been worried. If the evening was a success, why wasn't he saying anything?

"Did you like Kim's performance?" she asked at length as he walked with her from the flitter to her apartment. She shivered again as she felt his hand lightly against her back as he guided her up the short stairway to the foyer of the building.

"I was listening to a recording of the performance a few days ago," he replied.

She paused on one step and looked at him, unable to keep the surprise from her eyes. She wanted to kick herself. So much for thinking her companion might not be interested in music of the classical kind. She looked away and continued up.

"What, did you think I'm not the type to listen to good music?"

She looked at him again, her heart burning at the warm appraisal in his eyes.

"I was expecting anything, Chakotay. Dalene was too - "

"Dalene, huh…"

"Yes, Dalene. Did you know she was instrumental in getting Sergei and Svetlana together?" Then Kathryn wanted to kick herself again. What the hell was she thinking? What was Chakotay thinking when she spoke like that? She almost clamped her mouth shut with her hand. She heard him give a little sigh. She felt suddenly deflated, and proceeded towards her flat. He followed her, not saying anything more. When they reached the door of her apartment, she looked at him speculatively. She wanted to invite him inside for coffee, or something stronger.

"We're here, Kathryn. It's been a…good evening. I will give Sergei credit. I enjoyed the concert. "

Chakotay held out his hand. She placed her palm in his, felt again the little shock at the touch of his hand. He gave a half smile.

"You're leaving…"

Oh, why was she feeling suddenly so bereft? She could swear there was a hesitance in his movement as he gripped her hand. His eyes bore into hers, warm, appraising, pleased with the result. Did a very slight smile hover on his lips and did his eyes become more heated? She knew she was drawn in like a magnet, inexorably captivated to the point where she didn't want to be released. Her breathing became shallow and it was as if she could feel her heart hammering against her rib cage. Chakotay was supposed to leave, wasn't he? He’d brought her home, hadn’t he? His job was done. Yet, he was drawing closer to her. Something was happening, something of the lightness of being she experienced earlier in the evening before they left for the concert. There was a strange magic about everything; strange yet very, very real. She didn't have to pinch herself to know that Chakotay was real, the concert was real, her hand in his was real. She felt at once afraid and thrilled.

His breath warmed her face as he came closer, bent down. The hand that gripped hers, released her. By the time she felt his hand gently pressing her head closer in his embrace, her eyes had closed. She experienced a sense of drowning, of falling backwards into a vortex of pleasure as his other hand pressed into her back, gently urging her closer - a firm, yet comfortable pressure.  She inhaled his musk, an indescribable wave of pleasure coursing through her as her body became pliant, yet not touching his completely. She wanted to press herself hard against him and melt together into bliss, a sensual  experience for which she had unknowingly hungered too long…too long… A soft moan escaped her. Chakotay paused, just centimetres away from her face. No words. Just intent. Glorious anticipation…

Warm lips brushed hers, featherlight at first, a touch that sent her reeling with ecstasy as she pressed into him. Her hands that had rested against his chest crept up to his shoulders. Kathryn parted her lips; a hot tongue darted in. She felt a sting of tears behind her closed eyelids as she heard his groan. For a few flaming seconds his tongue probed her mouth; his heat scorched, their breaths mingled in between soft gasps.

Then Kathryn felt a waft of air as he broke off the kiss, leaving her bereft. Her eyes flew open. Chakotay's eyes burned; he breathed hard for a few seconds until it became even. Then he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek in a gentle caress, his thumb resting against the corner of her mouth. Her eyes closed again at his touch, and when he removed his hand, she looked at him.

When he spoke, his voice was gruff.

"Goodbye, Kathryn…"

Then he turned quickly on his heel and before she could stir into action again, Chakotay was gone.

Kathryn stood outside the door of her apartment for a long time, her fingers touching her lips. When she finally opened her door and went inside, there was again a deep feeling of regret that the evening was over too quickly, that her sojourn with Chakotay tonight had been too brief. In her bedroom she sat down heavily on the side of her bed and held her head in her hands for a moment. The image of Chakotay was burned on her brain: black eyes, raven black hair in short cropped spikes, dimples when he smiled, the calm look when he appeared pensive. Kathryn knew that for a very long time, she'd see Chakotay's face every time, in every mirror of her house, on board the vessels she served on, in every man who passed her way and whom she’d so disdainfully overlooked in the past.

For a moment a sliver of fear ran through her body. She had not reacted like this to a man since Justin. She had loved Justin with all her heart, had given all of herself to him; they had shared moments that had been sublime, almost ethereal, and then there were moments in which their passion had been so all consuming. She had believed then, with youthful exuberance and naïveté that Justin was invincible, like she had believed her father was. Just at the time in her life when she had become so much closer to her father, and when she had believed that marriage to Justin would be the most passionate and natural follow through of their relationship and engagement, they left her. Stranded, with no father, and no Justin, she had been left alone, rudderless. Like a piece of flotsam she had drifted aimlessly on an unforgiving ocean whose wild waves heaved her high and then plunged her into its depths.

Not again would she walk that road.  It was long, painful, filled with so much terror that years later, she still felt that deep sense of loss.

Chakotay's kiss had given her a glimpse of that pain again. Kathryn knew that pursuance would mean the possibility of loss. Why then should she allow herself to entertain such thoughts of Chakotay as a fixture in her life when she knew that ultimately, history could repeat itself? Still, the thrill of feeling Chakotay's lips on hers was impossible to ignore, it had been rapturous…. She still tasted his tongue in her mouth. For a few moments she had experienced paradise…

She remembered suddenly the gift he had given her when he arrived. Walking back to the living room, she lifted the package from the coffee table and opened it carefully. A few seconds later the eagle lay on her palm, exquisite in its detail, flawlessly carved and gleaming darkly. She sucked in her breath as she held it up. The eagle appeared alive, ready for flight, its wings spread out, the head cocked exactly as if it knew in which direction to fly.

"It's as if it has a sense of its destination - fearless…undaunted by danger…" Kathryn whispered in awe. For a fleeting moment she had an image of Chakotay's face, dark, fearless yet kind… Kathryn frowned. Was this his own work? Someone else's? she wondered. She sighed. She had no way of knowing…She'd probably never know.

Kathryn walked to her mantelpiece and put the eagle down on it. She gave a smile as she saw how even there, the sculpture looked more alive, like it could fly off into the unknown.

Back in her room she sat down again, reluctant to prepare for bed. She had a feeling she'd not be able to sleep. She could still smell Chakotay, still feel his breath on her face, still taste his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth….

On her bedside stood the framed photograph of Justin. Kathryn smiled a tender smile as she looked at Justin's face: the laughing eyes, broad smile showing perfect teeth. Her hand caressed the face of her fiancé. For the first time, looking at his picture didn’t make her ache so deeply; for the first time she could place the accident in perspective. Kathryn pressed her lips against the cold glass of the frame, then held it away from her, her eyes soft.

"Oh, Justin…" she murmured, "it's time I finally let go of the past…"

***

 TBC


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Chakotay opened the door to his apartment, and as soon as he crossed the threshold he practically ripped the tie from his neck. Walking into his bedroom, he cursed under his breath as he stared at his thunderous expression reflected in the mirror.

He was angry. Angry that so many things he’d done tonight hadn't been planned. Certainly he’d planned to take a beautiful woman to the Command Performance for the President of the Federation. That illustrious gentleman and his wife had occupied the first bay of the concert hall, but Chakotay  paid little attention to the dignitaries who were present. Truth was he hadn't even heard Harry Kim play. Truth was, Harry Kim had played his heart out tonight, but Chakotay, who at one time had sworn off women, had not noticed the beautiful notes running like water over river stones.

Allegro - adagio - rondo… He’d heard nothing…

No, he hadn't noticed the concert soloist tonight. He was vaguely aware that he had met Admiral and Mrs Paris, two illustrious personages in their own right. The Admiral had been less aloof than he had remembered him, and Mrs Paris was the perfect companion.

But Kathryn Janeway had taken his breath away, literally. The moment she’d opened her door, he’d sucked in his breath, then struggled afterwards to find it again. He had gaped at the vision before him. It didn't help that, as she stood with the light behind her, her silhouette had enhanced her beauty a thousand times over. With a supreme effort he’d managed to keep a straight face, even joked a little. If he were honest with himself, it was the joking that had broken the ice as he'd stood there, mostly speechless in those first moments.  

Chakotay sat on the edge of his bed and rested his head in his hands. No, he thought, he hadn't planned to be tongue-tied in Kathryn Janeway's presence. He hadn't planned to move his head closer to hers in the auditorium because he couldn't keep himself from inhaling her perfume, smelling her hair. Somehow, he had known her hair would smell glorious. He hadn't planned on pressing his hand against her back wherever they walked, at the concert during its interval, or when he took her home. How had his hand stolen there? he wondered. How had he felt unable to pull it away when he knew he should? It didn’t matter that it was good protocol to guide a female companion in that way; it didn't matter that every couple at the concert did exactly the same. Why, Admiral Paris, austere and implacable - he had been a student of the Admiral in his first year - was the very embodiment of courtesy! But then the Admiral and his wife had been married at least thirty years.

He, Chakotay, had only met Kathryn Janeway tonight. Tonight! He’d met her for the first time tonight and all he wanted to do was be in her presence for the rest of his life. She had given him a smile from which he thought his heart would never recover. He shook his head. He felt miserable, yet at the same time exhilarated with the old thrill of being in a beautiful woman's presence.

He’d kissed her. It was unforgivable - unexpected, spontaneous, unforgivable. Somewhere at the back of his mind he knew that he was about to be ensnared, that he didn't want to free himself. He‘d tasted Kathryn Janeway's lips as they moved under his. He was drunk, waves of ecstasy had coursed through his body and left him reeling. He’d had to stop, stop what was happening, stop what he knew would be another long road to recovery from a woman's clutches.

He had a sudden vision of Caroline Meissen the last time he’d seen her: wanton, malicious, boastful of her conquests, crude and uncouth.

But Kathryn Janeway was clearly not Caroline Meissen.

Kathryn was refined, a lady, mysterious, enigmatic, her smile hiding her total allure, yet revealing and inviting him to drown with her somewhere in the Aegean Sea where he knew it was folly to fly too high to the sun. Kathryn had melted in his arms and had given an involuntary groan of pure pleasure as he realised she wanted him to kiss her, that she was not averse to discovering delight in a kiss with him. She had been soft, warm, and when he pulled her closer, he’d wanted to die when her hands gripped his shoulders, and she’d pressed into him. Hadn’t she felt how aroused he’d been? How aroused he was?

What was happening to him? Kathryn was a total surprise, a most pleasant one. No, it was not just her looks - she was incredibly beautiful - but something innate that he sensed in her. It was a goodness, a quality of inner strength that abhorred crudities, an inability to hurt anyone wilfully.

Exhausted, Chakotay got up and swiftly stripped. Minutes later he was in the bathroom, standing under an ice-cold shower. He gasped in shock as the cold water hit him and only gradually his body acclimatised to the cold.

Damn Sergei!

"Sergei, you knew, didn't you?" he muttered to himself as the water ran freely over his face, down his chest, down his back. Chakotay remained standing, allowing the coldness to bite into his skin and desensitise him, make him lose all feeling. He didn't want to think, yet Kathryn's image kept impinging on his brain, her face altering to look exactly like the figure he had painted only two days ago.

How had he known so instinctively that his painting would be Kathryn, or that Kathryn would be the woman in his painting? Was it the thought that he'd be taking a woman on a date - a blind date at that - that which encroached on his conscious, so that when he did his first sand painting in years, it had been a manifestation of his chaotic thoughts about a mystery woman? They both exuded hidden strengths, fey beauties, an untouchability that made the desire to touch a paramount urge.

Later Chakotay walked into his small office and sat down at his vidcom. He had known Admiral Janeway vaguely. When Kathryn's face appeared on the screen, his heart burned again at the sight of her. She had a smile on her face, the same one he had seen this evening. Tonight he had seen her at her most beautiful, and even though he had no frame of reference he knew intuitively she could never appear more lovely than she had this night. Now, in the picture on the screen, she was dressed in command red.

"First officer of the USS Crimond," he read. He remembered Andreas Buccholtz, the commanding officer of that vessel. A rising star in Starfleet, Buccholtz was heading for the Admiralty. They had been at the Academy at the same time, although Andreas was almost four years older. 

Chakotay's heart sank. Kathryn Janeway was not for him. He didn't want to get involved again. He didn't want to lose his heart again only to have it trampled on by beautiful woman. What the hell was he thinking? Wasn't tonight over?

Over! Over!

_Face it, Chakotay. The night is finished. You did what you had to do, and then more. You awarded yourself the right to kiss the woman for an evening well spent. In another lifetime you would have wanted the evening to end in sex. Yeah, right. Sex. But tonight was not to be. Kathryn Janeway was pedigreed, too refined to be bedded on a first date, too refined for anyone she didn't...love. Yeah, that's it. You can bet yourself she had never done that. But spirits! She tasted like sweet nectar, drugging your senses, making you want to believe that there might be such honourable characteristics as constancy and fidelity after all._

Chakotay closed his eyes. A wave of pain hit him in his chest as he remembered her taste... He'd never forget how she’d tasted, never forget how she’d melted in his arms, never forget how he found it impossible not to give in to the desire to kiss...kiss...kiss... 

But it was over. He only had to take her out, take her home, and it was done.

Chakotay closed the vidcom again and sighed deeply. Tonight, he knew, sleep was a commodity that would be in short supply.

***************************

"So, how did the evening go, Kath?" Dalene asked. She had given Kathryn an early morning call, too early for any sane person to be up. Kathryn stared bleary eyed at the screen of her vidcom. How on earth could Dalene look so sprightly at 6am? She was based at  Starfleet headquarters, serving as aide to Admiral Gordon. "It figured," she answered her own question, "the old fogey never slept." 

"As well as could be expected, Day," she replied, running her fingers through her hair. She was still tired, hadn't slept much since Chakotay brought her home, although she wasn’t going to tell Dalene that.

"Looks like you haven't slept much since you got home, honey." Dalene gave a naughty wink. "Am I thinking along the right track?"

"More like your mind is in the sewer; join the rats on their early morning swim - "

"Then you kissed."

Kathryn's palms cupped her cheeks involuntarily. She knew she was blushing. Dalene smirked as she saw Kathryn's flush.

"He kissed you! That's great! Wonderful!"

"It's over, Dalene. He took me to the Command Performance - "

" - and then he gave you a command performance. Ooh…I'm drooling here, Kath. The man's a dream…"

She wasn't going to ask how Dalene knew that.

"Dalene! It was nothing. A peck on the cheek, that's all."

"And a peck on the cheek makes Kathryn Janeway look like she's not slept in days, gives her whole face  a healthy, reddish glow and makes her eyes sparkle. Go figure, Janeway. You've lost it."

Kathryn sighed resignedly.

"Okay, he kissed me."

"You played tonsil-hockey?"

Kathryn rolled her eyes. She had to smile at Dalene's apt description of an outsider's view of Chakotay's kiss.

"Dalene, please. I'm still tired. I have to leave on a shuttle for Deep Space Nine. One of the Crimond's shuttles I might add. Captain Buccholtz gave me kind permission - "

"Buccholtz? Andreas Buccholtz?"

Why was Dalene pretending to be so surprised? She knew the names of the captains of most Federation vessels. She knew Andreas Buccholtz. There was another man who was a dream and Dalene Petranoff was too aware of that. Was she thinking that Kathryn would whisper her of some juicy information about the man? Kathryn didn't miss the sudden flash of eagerness in her friend's eyes...and the flush….

"Ah, now there's one man who is impervious to Dalene Petranoff's charm…"

"I like him," Dalene declared. "Don't worry, he'll come round. Now, about Chakotay - "

"What about Chakotay?"

"Chakotay is still here in San Francisco for a month, Kath - " Dalene offered, homing in on the wistful sound Kathryn had been unable to keep from her voice. "He'll leave for deep space after that. You know he's First Officer of the Ormskirk - "

"Your brother's vessel."

"Yes. Chakotay's friend Sergei is the Chief Medical Officer…"

"Ah, the one who put him up to this…"

"Kathryn…"

"What is it, Dalene?"

"You've fallen for him," she said, her voice filled with awe. "You've fallen for Chakotay…"

Kathryn wanted to laugh it away, dismiss it as Dalene having fun at her expense. But she had been thinking all night of Chakotay. This morning just before her vidcom beeped, she had finally drifted into restless sleep, with the resolve that she should forget about a Native American called Chakotay. Yes, she had gotten up in the middle of the night and researched his file in the Federation database. She had a level 4 clearance, as she was certain Chakotay had. His photograph in the database had not done the handsome man any justice. The Chakotay whose hand she could still feel burning into her back, was alive; although he spoke little, and was a trifle withdrawn, he had an animated look about him. He could be still and yet, he had given the impression of swift movement, like an eagle poised for flight…. God…

"Kathryn…?"

"I'm alright, Day. I - I need time, you understand?"  Kathryn was gratified to see Dalene nod.

"They'll be away for six months, Kath," Dalene said softly, as if through her revelation she hoped that Kathryn might want to make some overture. Kathryn knew that Dalene was worried that she'd reach her forties without a man. She had Mark, didn't she? Dear, sweet Mark…

"I know, Dalene…" she replied, knowing her admission would let Dalene know she'd been checking up on Chakotay.

"Contact him, Kathryn. I'm sure he'd like to meet with you again. That kiss was something, huh…" How did Dalene know? Kathryn wondered constantly at her homing instinct.

"I'm not telling. He must think I'm in need - "

"We'll, you connected last night, Katie," Dalene said, using the endearment of their childhood days. "I can see that in your face. I didn't see you together - I'd love to, you know that - but I can see he's affected you. That alone deserves to be explored, don't you think?"

Kathryn knew Dalene was speaking the truth, but she had not been there when Justin died. She had not been in Indiana when Kathryn had lain in her darkened room pining away, plunged into deep depression. She had not been there.

"I can't walk that road again, Day. I'm sorry. Please, I have to get ready to meet Admiral Paris later today. I'll see you for lunch. But just…don't ask, will you…?"

Dalene's eyes softened at the entreaty in Kathryn's voice.

"I'll see you this afternoon then, Katie. And - and if I'm unable to make it, good luck then on your mission to Bajor…"

"Thanks, Day. Take care…"

Dalene Petranoff closed communication and for a few minutes Kathryn sat staring at the Federation insignia, her hand idly caressing her cheek. She closed her eyes, felt a tear squeeze out and roll hotly down. Chakotay had done something she hadn't thought anyone - any man, she corrected - could do. He had come and opened her again to all manner of emotion, all kinds of impulses that made her vulnerable, that made her _feel_ again. For ten years, she had been dead inside. Ten years was a long time for a woman - for her - to subdue her feelings, close herself off from the  danger of losing her heart again. She didn't want that. Not again. She didn’t want to love again, only to lose it once more. Even if that man were to be Chakotay, he’d unveiled the temple of her heart, thawed the hard layers of ice that she had cultivated with so much care in the last years. She had nowhere to run now. She was as open as she had been ten years earlier but no less able to protect herself.

It was done. She could feel again, and with it came the breathtaking, if terrifying prospect that she wanted to walk that road once more’ instead.

She didn't know if she should curse Chakotay, or thank him.

Perhaps neither, she thought as she rose from her chair, walked to the living room and removed the eagle carefully from the shelf. She took it into her bedroom and placed it on her dresser. Tonight when she left for Deep Space Nine, Grey Eagle would travel with her and then sit proudly on the desk of her office.

*****************

Sergei Karkoff  watched his friend hoist Anatoly on his shoulders. Chakotay was a tall, big man, tanned and muscular, and could probably swing a loaded barrel of old earth rum across his back with ease. It was why Sergei felt confident that his son was in safe hands.

Anatoly had asked first thing this morning, "Is Uncle Chakotay coming, Daddy?"

"Oh yes, he'll be here this afternoon - "

"And he’ll bring me my present?"

"Naturally. You got Uncle Chakotay's present, peanut?"

"My name's Anatoly, Daddy!"

At six, Anatoly was very precocious. It had not helped that Chakotay, Anatoly’s godfather, spoiled him. No, Sergei thought, not really spoiled the little one. But they shared a birthday and it was always special that they have it together, whenever Chakotay happened to be on Earth. Chakotay loved Anatoly as he would love his own son if he had one.

Sergei heard the loud squeals of the child, and minutes later Anatoly was running towards the first of the guests - mostly children from his school - who had arrived.

"You're good with him, Chak," Sergei said reflectively.

"And your next words are going to be,'You should get married and have children', right?"

Chakotay glared at him, and Sergei felt like banging his friend's head against something, anything hard. It had been a week since his date with Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay hadn't said a word. It was that very fact that cautioned Sergei and the ebullient Svetlana from poking around too much. Chakotay would talk, eventually, but sometimes, Sergei thought, the man needed to be nudged in the ribs to kick-start him. Chakotay had been staying with them the last few days, and tomorrow he'd be on his way. He never said where. Never. Later he'd tell them he'd been in Mexico with Grey Eagle.

He'd tell them he'd go on a date with Kathryn, but Chakotay, the man, who craved the silences both outside and in his heart, was an enigma. He would wander off and they'd only know he was back a few days before he had to report for duty.

His friend had been affected, there was no doubt about that. Under normal circumstances Sergei would have rejoiced that Chakotay had found in a brief encounter something that would endure if he let it. Dalene had let Svetlana know that Kathryn left the very next day to report for duty at Deep Space Nine, to leave on the Crimond for Bajor for an undisclosed period. He knew what that meant. The mission was covert, and Kathryn as first officer was duty bound to keep her movements as unobtrusive as possible. Still, it meant that any contact, if not through subspace communication, would be out of the question for at least two months.

Six months…that is how long he and Chakotay would be in deep space on the Ormskirk. When would Chakotay and Kathryn ever meet again, if that could happen?

"Hey, you dreaming, Sergei?"

"No. I was thinking we'll be off in about a month into deep space for a half year. I won't see Svetlana and Anatoly for that time, and…"  Sergei paused, unable to put into words what he wanted to say next, but Chakotay took it out of his mouth.

"You think -  is there anyone I'll be coming home to?"

If Chakotay hadn't had that deep, dark look of pain in his eyes, he would have joked, like they always had in the past. Suddenly the rules of the game have changed. He was treading on uneasy ground, the dance an uneasy dance of the flamingos when they sensed danger, which he had seen once on the marshes of the Serengeti. Sergei sighed. That was what he was going to say; Kathryn was what he wanted the conversation to lead to.

"What is there you're not telling me, Chak?" he asked quietly. He knew his friend. Chakotay had been preoccupied for some time, although to look at him, he couldn’t tell what it was.

"I kissed her, Sergei."

A slow smile spread across Sergei's face, a smile that held kindness, understanding. Chakotay had not mentioned anything about sleeping with Kathryn Janeway and it hit Sergei like a hammer: he hadn’t. It spoke volumes when Chakotay said he’d _kissed_ Kathryn. Volumes...

"It affected you."

"Yes."

"And you don't want her to be another Caroline…" Sergei said with some insight.

"I don't think she could be, Sergei. She is not Caroline, never. There is too much that is honest about her."

"But?"

"I think she hurts still."

"As you are, my friend."

"I - I don't know her past. I didn't want to be that intrusive, you know. But I could sense there had been a man. For a moment Kathryn had looked like a doe facing a predator, the fear acceptance blending together, flitting through its eyes. Kathryn looked like that, Sergei. I don't mind telling you. You're my friend." 

Chakotay looked pensive for a long time. In the background the noise of the children faded. Svetlana had everything under control. She had given Sergei a nod of approval and then regimented her little squadron of six years olds.

"Yet you couldn't stop yourself..."

"I've never felt so badly and so good about what happened, Sergei. It was…I don't know…wrong to be presumptuous, to kiss her. I wanted to, very badly. It - it was inevitable." Chakotay was silent for a moment, then gave a crooked smile. "And then it was good. It - I think I need time to assimilate it all. I've met her; she's beautiful. Did I mention that?"

"No, I did. More than a week ago, before the concert."

Both men smiled. Sergei didn't want to tell Chakotay how his eyes lit up, or how there was a lightness in his voice. If they were to believe Dalene, then Kathryn Janeway also  hadn’t come away from her date untouched. Chakotay was falling in love, and while the denial was a verbal protestation to the contrary, the evidence was there in Chakotay's eyes, in his mien, his voice, the way in which his fingers trembled while he spoke of Kathryn Janeway. Chakotay had no idea how much he gave away. He had not looked like that since Caroline. No, Sergei decided, not even Caroline had been able to put that look there, and that was the defining difference.

"Well, I did feel very proud, you know. I took the most beautiful woman to the concert. We were…feted. I didn't feel as out of place as I thought I would and - "  Was Chakotay blushing?

"It was her presence. Believe me, Chak, Svetlana has that same effect on me."

They smiled again, watching over the congregation of little children who filled their home, and the wide front porch that was their playground. Sergei knew that Chakotay was not going to give him any more than necessary and he respected his need for introspection. He thought that Chakotay had done enough of that; the man's face appeared closed, but he knew that Kathryn Janeway was on Chakotay's mind probably every minute of the day.  Thinking to change from the serious tone of the conversation, Sergei asked:

"So, what have you given Anatoly this year, Chakotay?"

"What do you think? The kid is going to be the Federation's youngest grandmaster. He already beats you at 3-D chess!"

"I know. I must be a bad Russian, not following the great tradition of grand masters…"

Chakotay laughed.

"Don't worry. When we're on the Ormskirk in a month and traveling in deep space in the Gamma Quadrant, Dr. Karkoff, you can beat me lots of times at chess, while I'll box the snot out of you."

Chakotay threw a few shadow punches in Sergei's direction. Sergei fielded them, saying:

"When we're on the Ormskirk, you're going to contact her, Chakotay. You can't leave it like that."  He was gratified to see the assent in Chakotay's eyes. At least he was considering it. A month ago he would have thrown his friend against a wall.

***** 

Kathryn Janeway sat in her office just off the lounge of her quarters on the Crimond. They were returning from Deep Space Nine and heading towards Earth. Just a few days reprieve and the Crimond would be off again, to Aldoran IV, one of the planets on the perimeter of Federation Space. She was tired, the journey through the wormhole had gone smoothly but all hands had remained at red alert for the duration of their journey. Their stopover at Deep Space Nine was brief, since the Crimond was due for maintenance at McKinley station.

Her communication with Mark had left her a little dejected. He was already back home; usually, on those occasions when he contacted her while she was away, she looked forward to his conversation. Tonight he had sounded so...prosaic. She sighed. It wasn't fair to him. She loved him as a brother, and valued their friendship, but that was about the most enduring thing she could say about him.

Naturally, he’d asked about the concert.

"You went, after all?"  He sounded a little incredulous. "Alone?"

"Mark, I didn't go alone..." She paused, and that set him up again.

"You went with Dalene Petranoff?"

It was such a typical sentiment coming from Mark, but she had really been in no mood to tease him in his assumption that if he couldn't take her, no other man could…or should… Kathryn sighed. How could she tell Mark in a nice, safe and diplomatic way that she’d had a blind date? He was such an intellectual; something as common and as off-beat as a blind date would never strike him as something Kathryn Janeway would do. His mind was too elevated to comprehend that men and women could be impulsive. In that respect, Mark was predictable. He wanted no surprises and he gave none.

Yes, how could she tell him?

"No, I didn't go with her, but she introduced me to her brother's first officer who was - who was kind enough to offer to accompany me."

Oh, why did she falter?

Mark pounced.

"Do I know him?"

She had sighed again.

"No, you don't, Mark. We must have crossed paths during our Academy days…"

"Well, Kathryn, it seems you enjoyed the evening…"

Mark was not a philosopher-negotiator for nothing. Why would he assume just because she went with another man, she wouldn't enjoy an evening out with him? She had shaken her head. She was being unduly harsh with Mark, she knew. He cared for her a great deal, and was naturally worried that she not have a dismal evening.

She had given Mark her best smile, one she hoped could mask the turmoil she was experiencing, that she hoped would come across as just normal, detached interest, if there ever could be such a thing.

"I did, Mark."

"I'll make sure I'll be there for your next outing, Kath…So tell me about your date? What was he like?"

Did he sound suddenly jealous? Why did it seem as if he were protecting and marking his territory?

"Chakotay was an excellent companion, Mark."

"And handsome…"

"That…too.  Mark, if you don't mind, I am tired. We'll talk when I return to San Francisco, okay? We have some major debriefing after which I'll have some time free before I leave on my next mission."

Mark had given an exaggerated sigh, but was contrite when she had stifled a yawn. Seconds later he‘d closed communication and she sat staring at the Federation insignia. She was still staring at it, wondering how on earth she could get a dark-haired, dark-eyed, dimpled man's image out of her mind.

Since their evening together she had been toying with the thought of seeing him again. She wondered idly whether Chakotay thought about her too. He had been on her mind in all her quiet moments, whether she was sitting here, in her office, or in the holodeck, or relaxing in the observation lounge in her favourite corner. She had done so much of that in the last two months, that she'd been viewed as reclusive. She couldn't help it. She had never reacted like this to any other person, someone who dominated every aspect of her life, and that after one evening together. There had been no intimacies like sex on a first date, no long discussion over coffee or a glass of wine. Just a goodbye kiss.

A smile, a face that flickered unaccountably with remembered pain from somewhere, and Chakotay was gone.

She didn't want him to be gone.

She wanted…

She wanted to see him again.

How had it happened? Her fingers had curled protectively around the little eagle that perched on her desk. She caressed its wings, smooth and gleaming a head that stared at her with unafraid eyes.

"What are you telling me, Grey Eagle…?"

She gazed at the face, the strong beak, direct gaze, its breast proudly jutting forward. Did it nod to her? To what did it nod? she wondered. Did she want the little eagle to affirm her intent?

There was a sudden burst of light behind her eyelids; in seconds she was transported to a brilliant blue cloudless sky, with Grey Eagle soaring up, up, up…its destination unknown.  It swooped and dipped in circles, then took off with great assurance as if it had found its destination, to start a new journey, the thrill of arrival…

"I know what I must do," she whispered.

Her hand touched the controls, found the correct bearings, co-ordinates, her voice bearing no trace of hesitation as as she began preparing to communicate.

"Computer, open subspace communication with the USS Ormskirk, Gamma Quadrant."

The lights flickered as it complied, waiting for the next command.

No hesitation.

She knew where she was going.

"Private message direct to Commander Chakotay."

**** 

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK ONE: BEGINNINGS

The planet Moldor IV of the Brebok Star System had been a mining colony. With its resources depleted there was minimal activity now. However, on a southern continent some rich deposits of deuterium still remained in uninhabitable areas, too remote for any useful activity to take place. 

An away team of the USS Ormskirk had beamed down. Commander Chakotay, accompanied by three officers, had first scouted the area before finding the entrance to a disused shaft. 

"The deposits are three thousand metres down," he told Lieutenant Tongwat, a Bolian. 

"Isn't that too deep, sir?" Tongwat asked. 

"Without the kind of technology we're using today, it would have been the deepest of shafts," replied Chakotay as they traversed towards the first platform, about a hundred metres down. The rough steel girders were so narrow that they had to climb down in single file. Chakotay went first, followed by Tongwat and the other two. 

Then Chakotay paused, his legs braced around a metal bar, scanning the area below, then hit his commbadge quickly.

"Chakotay to Ormskirk. How far down will you be able to keep a transporter lock on us?" 

"About two and a half thousand metres, sir. We've been able to scan a platform of sorts at that depth, Commander. After that there is too much interference. You'll have to climb to get further down...." 

"Noted. Chakotay out." 

Chakotay fixed his harness in place, looking at Tongwat as he counted the karabiners, testing the breaking strength of the rope. He had selected this team, but he needed to make certain. Every Academy graduate had gone through extreme survival training in his or her second year. 

"You into abseiling, Tongwat?" 

"Been taught that in my second year, Commander. Special training by Commander Eiselen..." 

"Eiselen?" Lieutenant Grey asked. "The man who can climb Kilimanjaro without supports?" 

"You know the man," replied Tongwat. "What about you?" 

"I'm okay, so is Lieutenant Koreg. That right, Koreg?" Lieutenant Grey asked his colleague. Koreg nodded, not saying anything. 

"Okay, let's get moving to the platform," Chakotay ordered the men. They were getting distracted and would lose concentration if not careful. 

They were quiet until they reached the platform, wide enough that all four of them could stand on it. Chakotay hit his commbadge again. They collected the equipment that the transporter chief had already beamed down. Each officer had taken a load of the equipment in their backpacks. Chakotay was finished first and waited for the others. When Tongwat nodded, Chakotay hit his commbadge again. 

"Chakotay to Ormskirk. We're ready." 

Seconds later four of them were beamed down to a shallow cavern, the platform of sorts the Transporter Chief had told him about. It was more a niche that was carved out of the rock. Chakotay secured the belay ropes with a piton he hit into the hard rock face. It was a five hundred metre descent, a steep climb with enough footholds, but the rock walls were damp and slippery. 

"Be careful. We should hit rock bottom in about two hours..." 

"Pity we couldn't beam right down, Commander," Tongwat said, his voice sounding a little peevish. 

"Yes, it is a pity, isn't it? Where's your sense of adventure, man?" the normally brooding Koreg asked just above him. 

They climbed swiftly, some areas of the face smooth enough that they could abseil in spurts of about twenty metres. Their gear was reinforced, the karabiners' breaking strain at 22kN, the thin belay rope surprisingly resilient. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" Koreg asked as Grey slipped above him. He missed a foothold, plunged ten metres, flying past Koreg as he came down, then, almost bungee style, bounced against the rock face. He dislodged a few loose stones that clanked hollowly down in the darkness. 

"What the - ?" Chakotay asked as the rope strained. 

"Sir! Break off!" 

"No! Koreg, you steady him! We're about a hundred metres from that ledge below us. Crawl if you have to!" he commanded, at the same time managing to untie his rope from the karabiner. 

"What are you doing, Commander?" 

"I'm pulling all of you down. If I untie myself, you can make it to the ledge..." 

"No, sir! You're in danger!" 

"Get down! That's an order!" 

They managed to move down, clambering past Chakotay. In the light from his wrist, Chakotay could see Grey looking shaken. That was when it happened. Koreg who was still above him, slipped as he missed a jutting foothold, scraping narrowly against Chakotay. The sudden movement was just enough to jolt Chakotay from his grip. Before he knew what was happening, he lost his foothold. 

"Hey, what - " 

Chakotay plunged down the rock face. He only had time to think it was a good thing he was cut loose from the group, when he knocked his head, stunning him so that his body plunged like a rag doll, bumping, bumping as he went. He didn't scream. The screams came from Koreg, Grey and Tongwat. He landed with a thud on the ledge, bounced away from it and careened down until he thudded onto another ledge, but that wasn’t the end of it. During his plunge, Chakotay had loosened more rocks that followed his descent. As he lay on the ledge, exposed, a large boulder crashed on to his legs. 

The others couldn't see him anymore. Chakotay gave a soft moan before losing consciousness. 

*** 

Sergei Karkoff looked at the patient on the biobed. A very worried Bolian stood next to him, teetering on his heels. 

"Will he be alright, Doctor?" Tongwat asked. 

"The fool man! He could have been killed. You saved his life, Lieutenant."

"No, Doctor. Commander Chakotay saved our lives. He knew when Grey slipped the first time, that he would bring all of us down, because Grey was just above him. He untied himself from us, otherwise we would have gone, too." 

"You two finished?" Chakotay asked, his eyes still closed. When he opened his eyes, he smiled at Sergei, shook Tongwat's hand. "Thanks, Tongwat. It must have been difficult getting back to the platform - " 

"It was touch and go, Commander. Transporter chief could only do a beam-out from the platform." Lieutenant Tongwat turned to look at the doctor. "It took us three hours to get the commander back up to it, Doc."

Chakotay lifted himself up, groaning as he tried to sit. He touched his head gingerly, feeling a little groggy still. 

Sergei and Tongwat watched him. Then Tongwat looked at the doctor. 

"Do you think it's wise for the Commander to get up now, Doctor?" he asked. His look and tone of voice clearly suggested he thought the Commander shouldn't.

"Chakotay, you have to stay here for at least the rest of the day - " 

"Nonsense, I feel fine." He moved his feet over the bed, then pitched forward, sailing off the bed and landing on the floor.

"See what I mean, Doctor?" Tongwat asked as he lifted Chakotay back on the bed. 

"Chakotay, you've had a serious concussion, you've been here three days - " 

"Three days!" 

"Three days. You've had serious multiple fractures of your left leg, and I mean multiple. There were enough bone fragments that would make a good soup, and they haven't knitted as they should. At the moment tiny pins like staples are keeping the bones together. You'll experience discomfort for a few days, but I can't keep you tied to the bed. You do in fact need to get up and move around." 

Chakotay stared at his friend in disbelief. His leg ached, and Tongwat…Tongwat was smiling! 

"Why are you smiling, Tongwat?" 

"Doctor, it's going to be difficult to keep the Commander chained to the bed. Am I correct that I’m thinking what you are thinking?" 

"What's going on that I don't know?" Chakotay asked Sergei as the Doctor walked to another part of the sickbay and returned seconds later with two crutches. State of the art 24th century blue metal crutches with elbow braces. Chakotay frowned. He had never seen them before in his lifetime.

"Am I to use those’?

"Yes, Commander," Tongwat said cheerily. His eyes twinkled and Chakotay had to smile. The man deserved ten medals for saving his life; he was also patently holding Chakotay up as a role model and hero. He wanted to be none of that. All he wanted... He sighed softly. 

"Chakotay," Sergei said with a smile as they helped him off the bed, "they are only aids. You have to keep the weight off your leg. I've had to place you in a decompression chamber just to try and collect your bone fragments so they could fuse properly. Now the rest is up to you..." 

"Sure. I'll hobble around on centuries old helping sticks and have the crew look at me as if - as if..." 

"You need to get around?" Tongwat added with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

"Lieutenant, you're dismissed." 

Tongwat gaped at Chakotay. "I am here to help - 

"Get out, before I pulverise you with...this!" Chakotay blustered as he swung one crutch as if to hit Tongwat with it. Lieutenant Tongwat exited sickbay in half the time it normally took for him to exit sickbay. 

"Well, now there's another use for these crutches," Chakotay said morosely as he gripped it, them settled his elbows in the braces and tested a small floor area by walking forward. He grimaced as he put the left leg down heavily, and a shaft of pain shot through him. 

"Remember, not too much weight on your leg. And, you have to come in here every morning before duty for therapy from Medical Assistant Krell - " 

"Sure thing, Sergei. Thank you, man," Chakotay replied. He looked a little shame-faced giving them unnecessary grief. 

"No problem, Chakotay. You just be careful. I need my friends..." There was a warm look in Sergei's eyes as he squeezed Chakotay's arm. "I'll see you tomorrow morning then. Right now I've got to - " 

There was a beep, immediately followed by: "Bridge to sickbay." 

Sergei hit his commbadge. "Doctor here. What can I do for you, Captain?" 

"Is Commander Chakotay awake?" Captain Petranoff asked. Sergei and Chakotay looked at each other; Chakotay frowned. 

"Yes, he is. Commander Chakotay is on his way to his quarters, as a matter of fact - " 

Chakotay smiled, although the frown remained, lessening only marginally. 

"Commander Chakotay, we've received a direct communication from the USS Crimond. It's for you. Shall I direct it to your quarters?" 

Chakotay emitted a soft gasp and Sergei looked at him with surprise. A surprise that changed to approval. 

"The Crimond, Captain?" Chakotay asked. 

"The vessel is on its way to Earth from Deep Space Nine. Commander, I'll relay it to your quarters. You have fifteen minutes... Bridge out." 

Chakotay staggered back against the biobed and Sergei had to steady him. When he collected himself, Sergei said in a soft voice: 

"Kathryn Janeway is on the Crimond." 

Chakotay nodded, grateful that Sergei didn't press him for more information as he moved with difficulty on the crutches to the sickbay door. When he reached the door, Sergei spoke behind him: 

"I could do a site to site transport to your quarters, Chak," he suggested. 

"I - no...no thank you. It's alright... I'll walk. I need to think..." 

"Sure." Sergei watched as Chakotay left the sickbay, shaking his head in wonder. Chakotay's face had lit up like a beacon. There was no one on the Crimond that Chakotay knew, only its first officer, one beautiful Commander Kathryn Janeway; someone who could make Chakotay hyperventilate and choke on his breath and make his already tanned face flushed. 

"This had better be good," Sergei he muttered to himself as he walked to his office and busied himself with medical reports. 

*** 

Chakotay was glad he hadn’t insisted on being transported to his quarters. He needed time to think, to assimilate the news that a message awaited him. Not only that, it was a direct communication. It meant that the moment he switched on his vidcom, he'd see her face. 

It couldn't be anyone else. He knew no one else on the Crimond, and if it were the Captain himself who wished to speak with him - which he thought was unlikely, he never received such communications - it would have been an open hail he could have taken right there in the sick bay. Kathryn Janeway was the only person he knew to be on that vessel, as its First Officer. His heartbeat quickened madly at the thought of her. 

Her image grew on his brain, enlarged so that he could see her clear blue-grey eyes, the mouth that curved at the corner when she smiled, the eyebrow that lifted. He remembered her look after he kissed her, the flushed cheeks, the fear mingled with pleasure. She had not rejected his advances. He had walked away thinking that he would never see her again. And so he created a new little memory of her, for her, beginning when she’d opened her door for him, to the kiss and the way she’d moaned when he’d pulled her closer in his embrace. It was a little tableau, a tapestry of movement and emotion, of touch and taste and smell he turned over in his mind constantly, constantly... He had never forgotten her, he could never forget her. She remained indelibly in his mind as clearly as he had seen her that night, when she’d turned her face to him in the concert hall, the often furtive glances she she’d given him and that he had given her, just wanting to look at her, take in every nuance of her movements, of her voice, inhale the smell of her and die at the touch of her soft hair, the way her lips became even softer when he brushed his against hers. . 

Chakotay stopped for a minute, exhausted after walking almost fifty metres to the nearest turbolift. He sagged against the bulkhead, releasing one hand from the crutch and wiping his brow with the back of it in a tired gesture. 

Two crewman who passed him frowned when they saw the crutches. They greeted him quickly and walked on. Chakotay sighed. He'd have to get used to their stares, they didn't bother him. 

They'd have to search elsewhere for deuterium and replenish the Ormskirk's reserves. He had known from the start the mission was a risky one. Only Tongwat was fully capable of dealing with the extreme risk they exposed themselves to. No, the mission was aborted, and he walked like a cripple. 

He entered the turbolift. 

"Deck four." 

Leaning back, he waited for the doors to open on his deck. This time he tried to move faster with the crutches, an attempt that left him gasping as he struggled to get used to keeping the weight off his left leg. By the time he reached his quarters, he was drenched, the blue hospital issue gown showing dark patches where the perspiration soaked into it. 

He wondered again what Kathryn wanted. Was she ill, perhaps? Was she wanting to thank him again for their evening together? It had been more than two months ago. They still had a journey of almost four months before they could get their much needed break of a month again. Maybe it was just to have a conversation with him. But why? Wasn't it over? He felt again the pain as his heart constricted, cramped so that he groaned as he finally reached his office and sagged gratefully in his chair. 

She had to be patient to wait almost fifteen minutes for him. He was a fool to have let her wait, he thought belatedly. What if there were no message? What if she decided...what if? The old breathlessness he's had in the last two months just thinking about her, overpowered him again. His chest wheezed and for a few seconds he tried to breathe slowly in and out until there was a measure of calm in him. 

His fingers trembled as he switched on his vidcom.

**** 

She had been sitting on the couch in the lounge. If she had lived in the twentieth century, she would have wanted the telephone to ring, like a love-sick teenager waiting with bated breath for the first ring before diving to get the receiver. 

Nowadays a little beep on her vidcom would alert her when there was an incoming message on subspace. In actual fact, it was her own communiqué that was still open and waiting for a response. It was almost fifteen minutes; the computer had alerted her in a tinny and impartial voice that the respondent would activate in fifteen minutes. She had removed herself from her office and chosen this spot, away from her vidcom where she didn't have to bite her nails in anticipation to see his face and hear his voice. Here on the couch it was safer, the little distance not so threatening as it would had she still been seated at her computer. Now she could think, clear her head and decide whether she wanted to change her mind after all. In which case she'd have to think of something safe and non-threatening to say to him, something as banal as "I just wanted to thank you for your gift, Chakotay", after which she could close communication and forget the whole thing with a man who wouldn't leave her dreams. 

Or else, she could decide to let him know that her very being was incomplete, that he, Chakotay could, if she allowed it, become part of the sum of her parts. Half of it. Everything. Then again, she didn't want to unnerve him or embarrass him by blurting to him that she'd like to get to know him better. 

What if he weren't interested? What if he hadn’t had the same dreams as she, night after night for two months? What if he had forgotten that searing kiss that had imprinted itself so fully, so completely and permanently into her heart? She closed her eyes. Even now, two months later, she could feel his heat, smell the musk that had drugged her senses and made her want more, prolong his touch on her lips. She could still feel how his tongue probed her mouth and found destinations, halting, probing, exploring... 

She looked at her hands. They trembled as they rested on her knees. What would she say to him? 

"Kathryn, you're thirty four years old and you don't know what to say?" she muttered to herself. 

Her body jerked up from the seat as the sound of the vidcom's beeping echoed through her cabin. Smoothing back her hair, and then running her hands over her hips in an unconscious gesture of femininity she walked to her office. Measured steps, normal pace. He mustn't see that she was panting. She rubbed her cheeks, knowing that the warmth that spread through her face would let him see that she was a nervous, too flushed. Sitting down she took in a deep breath, once, twice, became calm as her hands touched the panels. 

The Federation insignia disappeared. There was a face. Kathryn frowned. 

"Chakotay?" 

Chakotay wheezed, before he could speak. He was drenched in sweat and for a moment she wanted to think he had been in the holodeck with a workout programme of some kind. But he looked...sick. He was wearing a hospital issue blue gown. A coldness gripped her heart, made her fingers tremble again. 

"Sorry I took so long, Kathryn." 

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice husky with concern. 

Chakotay grimaced. Then he turned away from the screen momentarily and showed her a crutch. Kathryn frowned. 

"Took a tumble and broke my leg," he offered reluctantly. At least, that's how he sounded, like someone who... 

"You sound as if it's a nuisance, to have a broken leg. Your CMO...?" 

"Oh, he fixed what he could - " 

"Then it must have been serious, Chakotay!" Kathryn exclaimed, then clamped her mouth with her hand. How did she sound now? Like a an over-protective girlfriend? She looked at him for long, long moments, taking in his pinched features. He must still be in pain, she thought, as he wiped the perspiration from his face with a handkerchief. 

"No, it's nothing much. Kathryn, why - why have you called me?" he asked. His eyes held an odd mixture of apprehension and expectancy. She felt a terrible burning inside her and clutched at her breast. Did he want her to call him? Did he miss her like she did him? She touched her flaming cheeks, not knowing for a moment what to say. She was suddenly embarrassed. She couldn't bear any looks of sympathy that she needed his company. He wasn't smiling, the look on his face…She gave a small cry. 

"I - I think maybe it was a mistake. I shouldn't have called you. You have other...things..." she finished lamely, then suddenly she closed communication. There was a buzzing sound in her ears, the only sound she seemed to be able to hear in her quarters. 

"Oh, dear God, what am I doing?" she whispered softly. "He looked so sick; it was the wrong time to approach him. What must he think of me?" 

She rose from her chair, feeling sick to her stomach. Kathryn rushed to the bathroom where she leaned over the basin, taking in deep painful breaths in order to prevent the nausea from overcoming her. She had been so wound up since she decided to call Chakotay on subspace that she had not been aware of how on edge she really was. Seeing him for the first time in two months did something cataclysmic to her. It was his face she dreamed of, that followed her to the holodeck, the observation lounge, the bridge, her quarters, her bed... 

Taking a sip of water, she felt a little better. Then she jumped as her vidcom beeped again. 

"I'm acting like a love-sick teenager," she told herself as she walked to her office again, switched on her console and saw Chakotay's face. There was no smile, but there was no gloating look either, just…concern? 

"I fell down a mine shaft on Moldor IV. I plunged 200 metres before landing on a ledge in the belly of the mountain." 

"I - I'm sorry I cut you off - " 

"We were transported 2500m down to a platform," he said without paying much attention to her apology. It was as if he needed to explain more fully, and not with the same self-derision of before. "There was too much static interference to beam right down to 3000 metres." 

"That far down?" 

"Yes." Chakotay managed a smile now. "We had to climb the rest of the way down." He looked less pinched she noticed, and she felt her own fear subside, that he might have been more seriously injured, perhaps even have died. "I cut the abseil rope, but there was a slight hitch, and I lost my footing." 

"That slight hitch meaning?" 

"One of the men lost concentration, Kathryn…" he said calmly. She knew that it meant he had placed himself in danger, or that it had caused him to lose his own footing. She had done that herself in the caverns on Mars… 

"Are you okay now? Apart from the crutches, I mean?" Kathryn managed to smile for the first time, settling into a relieved posture as she leaned forward to touch the screen. 

"I was thinking of you, Kathryn..." he replied, his words full of import. Hope sprang up wildly in her. 

"Not when you were climbing and risking your life?" she asked, aghast. 

"Well, maybe not in those moments, but…" She saw how he wiped his brow again, how he breathed with a little wheezing sound. She waited until he calmed again. 

"I wanted to thank you for....this," she replied, then she took the little eagle and held it up for him to see. 

He grimaced. 

"I call her Grey Eagle," she told him conversationally. 

"It's a he, and you - you think of her as a she?"

"Does it matter?" she asked teasingly, suddenly feeling much lighter and not as intimidated by her own resolution to talk to him. 

"No, it doesn't, I suppose." 

"Did you carve it?" 

"Kathryn, I'm fairly good at carving, but no, I didn't do that one. Grey Eagle did." 

"Who?" she asked, then turned the little carving round in her hand, looking at him with a frown. 

"Oh, he's the man who made it. A Native American who lives in Mexico..." 

"It's very, very beautiful," she said, her eyes feeling moist as she looked at Chakotay. "Thank you...I'll treasure this always." 

"And me, Kathryn?" he asked softly. 

She knew she blushed again, but this time looked at him directly in the eyes.

"I was wondering, Chakotay, if - " She remained silent for about a minute, suddenly nervous again. 

"If...what?" 

"I would like to offer you my hand in friendship, Chakotay," she said at length. 

Oh, why did she suddenly sound so pedantic? Chakotay burst out laughing and was immediately contrite when Kathryn closed her eyes. It wasn't going as well as she thought. 

"I'm sorry. I seem to be wasting your time..." 

"No, no, it's not that, Kathryn. I've been hallucinating, I'm dead certain. I have wanted to contact you. You don't know how many times..." 

"You, too?" she asked. 

"I don't think friends is all I want to be with you, Kathryn..." The moment the words were out, she could hear Chakotay give a deep sigh, as if the admission had finally given him peace. She pressed the little eagle against her lips, her eyes still closed. The stillness in her quarters was broken by her breathing. She wanted to die. He...wanted her... When she opened her eyes again, there was a tentative smile that hovered on his lips. It gave her courage, knowledge that she had done the right thing after all. He seemed to be waiting. He wanted to be more than friends… When she spoke again, there was no hesitation. She felt herself lifted, gloriously light like she was floating off somewhere. 

"Could I call you again, Chakotay? I'll be home then - " 

"I would love that, Kathryn Janeway. I would really love that." 

She couldn't stop herself from smiling. What had been so intimate, too private a thought to share with anyone, she could tell Chakotay now, without feeling embarrassed. Now, with the air somewhat cleared, the conversation flowed easier. 

"I haven't been able to stop thinking of that night." 

"Why do you think I fell down the shaft?" 

"It was my fault?" 

"I was thinking of you!" 

"I didn't break your leg, Chakotay..." 

"No, you didn't," he said laughingly. 

"How long will you be on the supports?"

"As long as Sergei decides to keep me on them. He's a real pain-in-the-rear doctor." 

"But he knows what's best for you - " 

"Kathryn, the man laughed putting me on crutches. Anyway…" Chakotay paused, the moment suddenly sombre. "Anyway, I - I have been injured really badly." She could see it wasn't an admission he was happy to make. That he was telling her, made her heart soar. He was clearly not one to reveal his woes to the outside world. Why, she felt privileged to be part of it. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." 

"I just have to be patient, that's all, Kathryn." He gave a sudden bitter laugh. "I hate these…" he added, lifting up one crutch that she could see.

"Chakotay..." 

"Yes, Kathryn?" 

"Will you take me one day to see Grey Eagle?" 

A smile spread across his features; his eyes were shining as the sombre mood changed again.

"I will, Kathryn. I most certainly will. He's been wanting to meet you..." 

****  
TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And you thought they couldn't do more than talking while serving on two different starships? Things are developing...

Chakotay exited the turbolift and trod slowly towards his quarters. He leaned heavily on the walking stick Sergei had given him. The crutches had long since been discarded. In the last three months, Sergei had treated him, breaking the fractured bones again and then fusing them into the correct position. Each time, Chakotay had refused a painkiller but nonetheless grit his teeth as the painful procedure was effected. 

"There, that should do it, Chakotay. Use the walking stick for the next few days. Be careful." 

"I will," he'd replied a few minutes ago. His face had been drawn, the ravages of pain still evident. Sergei had shaken his head and gave him a little phial. "Here, in case the pain gets too severe." 

Chakotay hesitated at first, then reluctantly took the phial of painkillers from his friend. Sergei had given a relieved sigh as he looked at Chakotay. As he turned to leave, Sergei caught his arm. 

"What is it?" Chakotay asked. 

"Give Kathryn my regards," he said jovially. 

Chakotay grinned, a sparkle returning to his eyes at the mention of Kathryn's name. 

"When am I supposed to do that?" Chakotay asked as he moved to the sick bay doors. 

"You talk to her on subspace every week, Chak. You'll be hearing from her in the next hour or so, right?" 

Chakotay stopped, pointed his walking stick and prodded it against Sergei's chest. 

"I should resent that you want to organise my private life for me, Sergei. However, this time I shall overlook your enthusiasm and excuse you. But listen, it's my business, okay?" 

"Okay!" Sergei laughed and Chakotay had shaken his head at his friend's obvious happiness. A few weeks ago, in a congenial moment when they were in the observation lounge, Sergei had been effusive. 

"She's good for you, Chakotay. I can see how the edgy look in your eyes has slowly thawed." 

Chakotay had shaken his head, not surprised that his best friend could know him so well. They had been friends since their Academy days, had managed every time to be assigned to the same vessels. Svetlana had been attracted to him, but he had had little interest in serious relationships at the time. When he steered Svetlana gently towards Sergei, it had been the best thing that had happened for Sergei. Naturally, Dalene Petranoff had been the primary engineer in the move to get one of her friends hitched with an eligible bachelor, that man being Sergei Karkoff. Now they had a little boy and very soon Svetlana would be giving birth to their second child. 

Chakotay sighed. His search for happiness had finally come to an end. He reached his quarters, surprised to find himself there, so deep in thought he was. His heart surged wildly. The Ormskirk was finally in Federation space again after almost six months, and he and Kathryn had been communicating regularly once a week as they had arranged. 

Tonight she was due to call in an hour and he was looking forward to it. After he keyed in his code, the doors slid open and his quarters welcomed him. It was dark and he decided to leave it that way. His leg ached and when he reached his lounge, he sagged gratefully down on it. He gave a deep sigh as he threw his head back and closed his eyes. 

He had been right when he told Kathryn at the beginning that he didn't think that they could remain just friends. While he was over the moon that they could explore that aspect of their relationship too, there were many deep currents of attraction between them that… He gave a little moan as he remembered some of their conversations. In the beginning they had just talked; he learned about her family, about her friendship with Mark and Dalene, her father and Justin who had died together in an accident, her particular connection to Admiral Paris and his family. She learned about his family, his mother and father, two brothers and a sister who lived on Dorvan V. 

"You don't sound happy about your Dad…" she'd said, noticing intuitively how his voice changed to disparaging tones when he spoke about Kolopak. 

"The man dragged me all the way from Dorvan V to Earth to search for the Rubber Tree People and to be inducted into the traditions of his tribe!" 

"And you didn't like that?" 

"I was fifteen, and rebellious. I was looking at the stars, dreaming about starships, going to the Academy. I couldn't understand their ways, nor accept them, Kathryn. It's archaic, quaint and anachronistic. They shunned all forms of technology, for heaven's sake." 

"Sounds to me like a good tradition to uphold - " she had ventured. 

"Are you on his side, Kathryn?" He had sounded flinty, sharp and irritable. He pursed his lips when he saw the hurt expression in her eyes. Then the fire returned as she defended his own father to him. 

"Look, Kolopak embraced certain traditions that he felt were worthy of being followed. That doesn't make him bad - " 

"He wanted me to embrace them, don't you understand? He has this crazy tattoo drawn on his brow. Like this…" 

Chakotay had taken a finger and drawn the imaginary outline of the tattoo over his left brow. He cursed under his breath when Kathryn smiled. 

"I think you would look very handsome with one, Chakotay," she'd said sweetly. There had been a teasing lilt to her voice, but he could also see that her eyes held a kindness, as well as something serious. "You would look good. Very Native American…" 

He had told her of his race when she asked about it one evening, looking again at the little Grey Eagle she held in her hand. She always had it in her hand whenever she called, or when he initiated a subspace communication. 

"I don't think so. They're - " 

"Olde worlde, I know. You said that. But don't hate your father, Chakotay. At least you got to do things with him, and he was always there…" 

There had been a wistful sound to Kathryn's voice. She had told him one evening about her own father, Edward Adam Janeway, who was rarely home to be with his daughters. She had been tearful one evening when she recounted how he was never present at her school prizegivings, always either late, or with the excuse that he couldn't make it. There was always some mission into deep space, or some unavoidable occurrence that prevented him from attending. Later Edward Janeway had found it difficult to connect with his daughters. Only when Kathryn had attended the Academy, had things changed. Kathryn told him that she liked to think it was because he had made a conscious effort to be there, and as a result, that she had begun to enjoy a closer relationship with her father. 

"But I always regretted not having had that bond when I was growing up. Don't - don't let your father get too distant, Chakotay," she had said with heartfelt emotion. 

Then one evening when he called her, she had seemed out of breath. She was again on the Crimond, somewhere in Federation Space. He had been rushing to get to his office and set up their regular subspace communication. It was just over two months after she’d called that first night. Chakotay felt a delicious thrill of pleasure thinking about that night. After that… He sighed. In his quarters, thinking about it, he became aroused just thinking about what they'd done. 

"Kathryn? I'm sorry, you've obviously been rushing from…somewhere," he said, smiling at how the water still dripped from her hair. She looked beautiful - beautiful and wanton, with her hair hanging in wet strands about her face. That was not all. Kathryn was naked. He saw how she quickly pulled on her robe tighter to her, how her face became flushed, how, her lips parted… He had visions of the night he kissed her. 

"I was in the tub…" 

She sounded so completely at home in his presence it didn't bother her in the least that he saw her in her state of undress. 

"Perhaps I should call again another time. I've obviously disturbed you." He'd said it deliberately, enjoying her rapid reaction when he leaned forward to touch the panels on his computer. 

Kathryn lifted one elegant eyebrow; he could feel the heat bouncing off his screen. At least, that was how it felt when Kathryn's eyes narrowed seductively. 

"You do that, Chakotay, and I won't let you see me like this…" 

Then she pulled the lapels of the robe away from her shoulders. He trembled, blinked, then gaped. He could see her creamy breasts, the way her skin, almost translucent, glistened, the pulsing in the hollow of her neck. Some drops of water from her wet hair trailed down her cheeks, crossed her lips, those parted lips that invited investigation! He knew even as he trailed his eyes over those planes, that his own breathing had become shallow, deep, gasping. He also had an embarrassingly painful erection. 

"Kathryn…" His voice was no more than a capitulatory groan. 

"Give me something to dream about tonight, Chakotay," she commanded huskily. 

He saw how her hands went up to cup those creamy breasts, gently rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger. He could only gape and ache with the pain of his arousal. Then Kathryn smiled. It was the smile of a predatory cat. How had it happened? He had been dazed, knocked senseless by the abandon with which Kathryn exposed herself to him, supremely confident of the effect on him. He blinked again, wanting to believe he was experiencing a dream, a horrible, brilliant, beautiful sensual dream. He had slowly removed his jacket, the undershirt, wiggled himself out of his trousers…until he too, sat naked at his console. 

"Don't tempt me, Kat…" he'd whispered at last as the heat rose in him, answering to the heat he could see in her eyes; she was smouldering and her hands never stopped moving as she caressed her breasts, trailed her fingers over the skin, throwing her head back. He could only see her upper body, but for the moment it had been enough…

"Make love to me..." 

He sucked in his breath at her command. 

"Close your eyes, Kat. I'm taking you on a journey," he croaked. He watched as her eyes closed, a soft hiss escaping her barely parted lips. She arched her neck and he could see the pulsing in the hollow. Her fingers were splayed across her breasts. She was waiting for him, waiting to follow his instructions... "Now, trail your fingers...down...slowly, Kat, slowly..." he coaxed, his own hand already covering his shaft, rubbing the length gently. Spirits! What Kathryn was doing to him... Kathryn's fingers trailed, and where they moved, he could actually see a faint, reddish mark as her skin responded and tingled to her touch. "It's my hands there, sweetheart," he urged and she pressed her fingers harder against her skin.. 

"I know," she breathed throatily, keeping her eyes closed. 

"Rise, Kathryn," he commanded, "and lift one foot on your chair..." There was no pause, no thinking about her actions or shrinking away from what he wanted her to do. When she rose from her chair and did as he asked, he could see her lower body, the soft tuft of hair at her centre. He groaned deeply as he imagined his hands moving down, his own fingers caressing the damp little curls - he knew they were damp - and letting his forefinger move away her moist folds. They separated and he wanted to die when her folds showed a soft, warm pinkish hue. They blossomed into thick fullness before his eyes, the folds trembling exactly as the petals of a rose would tremble in a light breeze. 

"More, Chakotay," he heard her voice in pleading tones, as he watched how she was about to slip her finger into her centre. 

"No, too soon, honey, take it easy, slowly, easy does it..." 

Her fingers paused at her slit. 

"Release your clit, your heart is there..." 

He wanted to die as she complied, her thumb pushing the fold back and the tiny, pink nub exposed. It was his fingers doing the work as he imagined himself fitting into her, exploring, rubbing, kissing... He pressed his finger into her moist centre, drew it out again and then he rubbed her clit in aching little circular motions that had Kathryn writhing, her hips pushing closer to her screen so that he had an even clearer view of her skin, how it shone from the dampness, her fingers working her clit until he could hear her cry like a mewling kitten, starting, increasing intensity as she neared her climax. "Almost there, Kathryn," he whispered. Then he groaned out loud, his own hand gripping his shaft hard, rubbing, frigging, rubbing, knowing that in a minute he'd ejaculate. 

"Now, sweet Kat, dip two fingers in your slit. Go, go, go...deeper, move out far, push in, Kat, hard, let me ram into you." Kathryn complied as she widened her thighs to gain deeper entry. She grunted, and though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was flushed, deep in the throes of her coming orgasm. He heard her keen, a long, thin wail. 

"Remove your fingers, Kathryn, now!" 

She complied. 

"Cover your centre with your hand. Fondle it, caress it... Let me see your hand press closer, Kat. Closer... It's my mouth there, sweet Kathryn. My mouth is covering you, my heat is melting with yours. You taste like heaven's own nectar, sweet and moist, my tongue has slipped in...." Kathryn's hand moved, danced all over her pubis and centre. Chakotay moved with her, gasping, grunting, connecting with her rhythm as together they thundered towards the edge. His body tensed painfully and in his daze of passion he saw Kathryn's leg lifting away from the chair as she too, tensed. 

Then Kathryn screamed his name as she came, spilling, spilling... Chakotay cried out as his own body arched, his shaft shuddering as he spilled his semen. 

"Chakotay!" 

"Kat...oh, Kathryn...!" 

Minutes later their heavy breathing calmed to a more even tenor. Chakotay's hand touched the stickiness around him and he groaned. Kathryn had meanwhile collapsed again into her chair. She looked stunned, Chakotay thought. Completely stunned by what had just happened. Then her eyes closed. 

"Kathryn? Sweetheart?" Chakotay was immediately concerned. 

She opened her eyes again. They were swimming in tears. He felt his own eyes burn. Her fingers trembled as they touched her lips. She gave a sob and the next moment, he stared dumbfounded at the Federation insignia. 

Chakotay pulled himself to the present and sighed deeply. Kathryn hadn't called him the following week. It had been her turn and he thought that she hadn't wanted to have anything more to do with him. They had done something memorable, not impossible, but something that was the natural expression of the chemistry that existed between them. It was undeniable, the deep attraction between them. When he said that first time that they couldn't remain just friends, he had had an intuitive feeling that they could be lovers. Friends, lovers, soul mates. Those ingredients were there. They had been there - at least a promise of them since she had opened her front door for him in Paris and he had seen her the first time. 

They were strangers when they met, but by the end of the evening, he had given in to the knowledge that they could be strangers no more. Not in the superficial sense, but deep down, he could know her and know that one day soon, there'd be intimacies of the kind they shared a few weeks ago. Kathryn had been generous, smouldering with passion and feral. Like a little wild cat she pounced on him and he? He responded with the same passion, attacked and clawed. Yet, they never touched. 

Chakotay walked towards his office and sat down in his chair, still deeply pensive. They'd be home in a week, and he was inordinately glad. He missed Kathryn, missed her with terrifying intensity. Their cyber subspace sex served only to whet their appetites, increase a hundred-fold his hunger for her. He longed for her hands to touch his body. He wanted to feel her quivering beneath his touch, taste her and make her writhe with passion. He wanted her hands on him and to drown in her eyes. It was frustrating, maddening that he couldn't be near her, on top of her, under her... She had been distraught after their lovemaking and hadn't contacted him. It left him worried, sick with dread that she might have taken flight. 

It had been only last week that Kathryn had called again. It had been her turn and he was afraid that she'd never make the attempt to call him. But, she did. 

"I'm sorry I cut you off like that, Chakotay," she said quietly, as if the two weeks in between had never happened. 

"It's alright, Kathryn. I was just worried that you might never want to speak with me again." He smiled, hoping that he'd reassure her that way since she looked so strained. "Besides, I enjoyed it." He was rewarded when she smiled shyly and turned her face away from him. "So, what happened, Kathryn?" He had wanted to know why she cut him off. 

"I - " she started, paused and looked away again. He frowned. 

"Kathryn?" 

She turned so she could face him again. Her eyes were deep pools of...sadness? Longing? His heart raced at that thought. Did she feel the way he was feeling? 

"I need you, Chakotay," she said finally, then she wiped at the first tear that rolled down her cheek. 

His voice was hoarse when he replied: 

"I love you, Kathryn Janeway." 

He had never known such peace as did descend on him when he made that admission. 

"I want to lie in your arms, Chakotay, and tell you how much you mean to me..." 

What happened was inevitable, an unstoppable train hurtling towards its destination. It was going to happen, he thought. Their weekly communications had become at times intricate games of sexual innuendo at others sweetly intimate conversation in which they bared their hearts. He had been afraid in the beginning, afraid to lose his heart, and now that it had happened, it seemed he found with it an immense freedom. Kathryn had experienced it too, and he had been tenderly supportive when she stumbled through telling him how her father and Justin died. Justin whom she’d loved with her heart. Perhaps she had been more afraid, he thought. She hadn't wanted to give her heart, had not been… Hell, it was an admission to make, great courage to tell him that she needed him. He needed her too. 

"Touch the screen, Kathryn, my love," he asked, his throat thick with emotion. Her fingers splayed across her screen and he did the same, each of his fingers touching hers. As if they were really in the same room, so tangible was the touch that he could feel the heat of it. They sat like that and Chakotay had closed his eyes, feeling again the burn behind his closed eyelids. 

"I love you, Kathryn…" 

"I love you too, Chakotay." 

*** 

Chakotay jerked to attention when his console beeped. Kathryn! When he switched it on, her face was a most welcome sight. 

"Kathryn! I missed you," he said, giving her a good impression of looking doleful. 

"I missed you too. When are you due back on Earth?" 

"Next week. We're about to dock at Deep Space Nine, and are bringing some dignitaries on our journey home." 

Chakotay's heart wanted to leap out of his chest. Kathryn looked radiant, her hair hanging loosely, fanning about her slender shoulders. 

"That's good. I'm home for a month. I - " 

"Is something the matter, Kathryn?" he asked, frowning suddenly. 

"No. It's just, we - we have to talk, you know. About when you're home…" 

He knew what she alluded to. They hadn't talked about it yet. He was based in San Francisco, and she was in Paris. While that presented no logistical problems, it did suggest that they meet somewhere. The last four months would have been almost unendurable if not for their weekly communications which kept them sane. Sane and madly in love, with no way other than smoking up their screens to express it physically. He wanted to feel her close to him, to touch her hair as she stood in the sun, with its rays kissing the strands, shooting little fire sparks off it. He wanted to be next to her and see the colour of her eyes darken with desire, hell, with any kind of feeling. He knew she wanted the same. How many times had she touched her screen and said she imagined it was his brow, his lips, his cheeks? 

He gave a little sigh. 

"I have applied to be based in San Francisco for the next six months, Kathryn. I'll be instructing senior cadets and command track officers in Advanced Tactical Training again." 

"Chakotay! And you didn't tell me last week!" 

He had only mentioned it a month ago, when he hadn't been certain that he'd get it. He didn't want to get his hopes - and hers up - by thinking it would be a done deal. But yesterday he had received official word from his commanding officer that he had been successful. He had given up that position two years ago to fly, but now, with Kathryn as part of his new dreams, he wanted a certain measure of security putting down a few roots, if only for a short while. A month ago he had been full of hope that Kathryn returned his feelings and it had been an act of faith that he had made the decision to become an instructor again. 

"I wanted to be absolutely sure, sweetheart." He saw how her eyes warmed at the endearment. Touching the screen, he felt the thrill when her fingers joined his. "And," he added a little soberly as he lifted his cane for her to see, "I'm still under Sergei's care…" 

"Chakotay, I do hope you'll have a full recovery." 

"I hope so too. I look like an old man with a walking stick. Twenty fourth century old man with a walking stick," he amended. Kathryn gave a relieved laugh at the way he derided himself. 

"So, I'll be with you on Earth?" she asked. 

"Naturally." 

"Where on Earth?" Kathryn laughed at the way her own words sounded. 

"I must be at Starfleet headquarters a day after my arrival, for a briefing on my new posting." 

"That's okay. I'll meet you at the transporter pads at Headquarters." He knew then that she didn’t mind staying with him at his place. "Give me the codes to your apartment. Perhaps I can arrange to have it aired." He hadn't thought of that. His family lived on Dorvan V and he was so out of touch with them… "I can water your plants…" He had no plants. He should get a few prehensile ones… "And help you - " 

"You know how I just love the way you take charge of my life, Kathryn." 

"Nonsense. It's only because I don't want to waste one more moment not seeing you." 

"You'll be waiting for me?" 

"Chakotay, have you suddenly gone dense? I just said so." Kathryn's eyes sparkled. His heart burned with love for her. 

"I can't believe it, Kathryn," he said soberly. 

"Can't believe what?" 

"That you can love me. You - I don't deserve you. My life has not been exactly - " 

"Chakotay! How can you say that?" 

"Kathryn, six months ago we were complete strangers," he said the words he had thought of earlier, "with no idea that we'd be here at this point. We - we've had sex, for heaven's sake… It’s been hard, Kathryn, not being able to get you out of my mind. I still can't get you out of my mind. I don't suppose I ever will, nor do I ever want you out of my mind and heart." 

All the time Kathryn stared at him while he spoke, with her eyes misting over. 

"We were strangers, Chakotay. I had no idea that the man who would knock on my door that night to take me to a concert would be the one I would lose my heart to. I am not afraid anymore, Chakotay. That stranger is a part of my life now, and I never want to part with him." 

"I miss you terribly, Kat…" 

"That's okay. I can make up a little for that," she suggested, her voice husky and seductive. He saw what she was going to do. Her hands had gone to her breasts, cupping them seductively. Then she started removing her top. She was wearing nothing underneath, he noticed in a daze. 

He only had the strength to say, "I must warn you, I'm an invalid, Kathryn." 

She blew steam against the screen and wheedled, "Nonsense, a month ago you were also an invalid and there was nothing wrong with your - " 

"Halt, don't - " 

" - voice," she mewled like a kitten as she sat facing him, her breasts gloriously pert and her nipples magnificently erect. 

He knew he was beaten. 

"Ah, Kathryn" 

**** 

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first stirrings of foreshadowing...

She always enjoyed the late afternoon in the gardens of Starfleet Headquarters. Sculptured to resemble gentle undulating hills, the grassy knolls were lovers seats or discussion forums where great resolutions were born, or where philosophers dreamed of peace. All it needed, Kathryn thought, her mouth curving into a half smile, were the sheep of the green hills of Arcadia. At the bottom of the little rise where she was sitting on a bench, nestled a pond, and just beyond that a copse. 

Sitting here always comforted her; if she experienced any turmoil, she'd come here most times and assimilate the serenity around her. She became restful, recharged and ready to go on her next mission. She gave a little sigh. The last time she had been home in Indiana - oh, how she longed sometimes for her home! - her mother had sensed that there was something different about her. Gretchen Janeway was wise, and nothing much about her daughters escaped her. 

"Alright, Kathryn," she asked right out, "who is the man who put that restful look back in my daughter's eyes?" 

"Whatever can you mean, Mom?" Kathryn had tried to hedge, but resistance with her mother, she learned, was futile. 

"You've found a man, Katie," she said calmly, then touched her daughter's cheek. "Ever since the night of the Command Performance you've been different. Owen told me - " 

"Admiral Paris, yes, he was there…" she had replied pensively. When blue-grey eyes met those of her mother's, she smiled and gave a resigned sigh. 

"His name is Chakotay. Commander Chakotay of the USS Ormskirk…" 

"It seems I can't hide, Mom." Kathryn had replied. After a short pause, she said: "Okay, I like him. We communicate - " 

"Kathryn…" 

"Mom?" 

"You don't just like Chakotay… It's more than that, is it? Infinitely more…" 

She had given her mother an almost stricken look, then walked quietly out of the house to sit on the porch in her favourite swing seat. There she had remained and her mother hadn't bothered her again. Gretchen respected that, Kathryn knew. But Gretchen Janeway had been right. Kathryn didn't just like Chakotay. She loved him. 

When she left a few days later, Gretchen Janeway had been emphatic. 

"When he's back in Federation space, be sure to bring him home, will you, Kathryn?" 

She had given her mother a beatific smile and without speaking again, had boarded her shuttle and left. 

It was her latest briefing with Admiral Paris that brought her here to the gardens, kept beautiful by old Boothby. Captain Buccholtz had left immediately for Mars where his family was stationed. But she had been a little unsettled by Owen Paris's briefing, and so had Captain Buccholtz been. The constant threat of Cardassian attacks were on the increase on homeworlds that lay defenceless in their path. The Federation could do only so much, and before the next year was out, something had to be done to secure another truce. She had been filled with disquiet, and their mission six months ago to Bajor had left a somewhat sour taste in the mouth. If the Federation couldn't effect a truce with the Cardassian Union… She shivered. So many homeworlds could be attacked, as it had already happened. She had heard tales of horror, harrowing stories by young, old, men and women of Bajor, prison camps, labour camps…. Their resources depleted, the Cardassians were expanding their empire, old treaties and accords flagrantly disregarded in their hunger to expand and crush the defenceless with force, in their belief that only violence and extreme aggression could bring cohesion and subjugation. 

Dorvan V lay in their path. Chakotay's people lived there. An odd fear gripped her. What would happen to them? 

Kathryn shook her head, tried to relieve herself of the feeling of disquiet, concentrated on the green manicured lawns, the rose bushes, the beautiful copses that appeared natural but were not. Birds flew over the large pond, one of many dotted around the gardens of Starfleet Headquarters. A little family of ducks floated around on the water of the pond just at the end of the rise she was sitting. Soon, the peace settled in her again, the beauty surrounding her bringing in her once more a sense of calm. 

She thought of Chakotay. 

Ever since Kathryn had made the move to contact Chakotay four months ago when she had been crazy with yearning for him; she had not had a moment in which she didn't think of him and in which she didn't count her blessings for a thousandth time. She couldn't imagine her life without him now, even though she had not touched him since the night of the command performance. 

How long ago was that? An eternity? A stranger who knocked on her door and who was now as familiar to her as her mother or her sister? Kathryn had opened up to Chakotay things she had not talked with her mother, or Phoebe or Mark, or Dalene Petranoff. What was it with her? She loved Chakotay with her very breath, and that fact, that little bit of knowledge was to her so unbelievable that it bordered on the fairytale, of magic and magicians and fairies who waved their wands or blew fairy dust over them. 

But the reality lay before her: Chakotay loved her as deeply as she loved him. It was inevitable, an inexorable fact that had to come to fruition some time. It happened one night when a stranger stood in front of her. By the end of that evening he had kissed her, and left an unforgettable mark on them both. They would both remember that touch for months to come. Until she made the move to share with him something of her feelings, she had not known that joy could be lasting, or that happiness could be an eternal flame that burned brightly inside her. 

She had not forgotten Justin. Justin was her first real love, her first halting essay into womanhood and intimacies she had never before shared with anyone. She had come to Justin untouched; she cared about her body as a precious part of who she was, not to be given lightly to anyone, or to he shared half-heartedly. When she had given herself to Justin it had been with her whole heart, her body and her soul. He awakened the woman in her, tantalised her dormant sexuality and sensuality into coming alive under his touches. She thrived with Justin, had grown to respect him and trust him with everything she was capable of trusting him with. In that she could not deny her late fiancé. He had loved her with equal passion, had shared all of who he was with her as a person, an individual, and made himself as vulnerable to her as she made herself to him. 

For a long time she had been unable to cope with Justin's passing. If she had loved him less, God help her, or if she didn't have any feelings of guilt at not being able to help him, she would have been able to come to terms with his death sooner, the way she had seen some men and women mourn their partners only until after the memorial service before getting on with their lives. But she had loved Justin; he had been the reason for her existence. In no way could she argue, looking back on their relationship, that it wasn't so. She could never, no matter how long she lived in this life, or existed in another, deny Justin that, and deny what she had with him. 

But Justin died. She had been the petrified witness to his dying moments - her father, a man she loved and respected above all else, who had become a part of her life late, and Justin Tighe. Helpless, paralysed into immobility, she had seen them die. Like an old man on his deathbed who knew that he would meet his Creator in a very short time and reached that way with both hands grasping towards the next life, Justin Tighe and Edward Janeway had looked at her. And, just like the old man whose death could no more be delayed than she could prevent the sun from rising and setting every day, her father and her fiancé exited this life before her very eyes. Her grief had been nameless; later there had been no more tears, just a desolate awaiting for Death to lay his claims on her too. 

Did they know then? Were they silently imploring her not to try anymore because it was no longer necessary? Did they grasp towards that afterlife with both hands reaching for some invisible light? For months she had agonised over their last moments, seen their eyes beseeching her. But she had been paralysed by her injury and fear, unable to help prevent the shuttle from sinking into the icy waters of the polar ice-cap of Tau Ceti Prime. Then the rage set in. She had been demented, wanting to save them. She couldn't, and for a very long time she struggled with herself, fought, clawed tenaciously at the one thing that kept her from hurtling backwards into the abyss of her own grief and depression: With her father she had made peace before he died. She had her father back and the short while that he had been available in her life when he had never been before they had shared a richness, eradicated all her feelings of failure she had felt on the day of the accident. 

With Justin she had experienced a full life, had been his lover, his friend, his fiancée, his confidant. He had been all those things to her. It finally dawned on her, but not before Phoebe had so rudely awakened her to the reality and truth, that she had had everything with Justin. If she never experienced that again in her life until the day she died, she could tell herself - and it didn't need any sort of self-convincing alluding to it being a half truth - that she had a full life with a man who had been the world to her. She had come to accept that, and while she had entertained friendships and the occasional date in the ten years since Justin's death, it was enough for her. She had not been intimate with any man since Justin, and Mark… Mark was just the kind friend she needed in her life. 

So why was Chakotay so different? Why was loving him so different? Why had it been difficult in the beginning to open herself to him? She had been afraid, she admitted readily. Afraid to trust herself again and to make herself vulnerable again to another man. Yet she did, and with it came a new kind of freedom. The freedom to love again wholeheartedly, with the ever present spectre of being hurt always lurking in the background. She was willing to take that risk again, because Chakotay, bless him, was willing to take that risk with her. 

He was everything. He maddened her sometimes; they had great arguments, and they had also great intimate moments. There was an element of mystery about him, of hidden strength and aggression. He oozed protection, the desire to remain close to her. She loved him deeply, maybe differently than she did Justin, but just as deeply. Even knowing him these six months, she knew intuitively that there was about her relationship with Chakotay infinite motifs to their tapestry, so much texture and colour she knew she'd spend the rest of her life exploring each one and relish the taste and feel if it. She had hardly known him well, but she knew that what she felt was a torrent that refused to slow down. He brought out the wanton woman in her. He made her giggle helplessly one moment and the next, she could undress and stand naked for him to feast his eyes on her body. If with Justin there had been a certain reticence in letting herself go and be whatever she wanted to be with him - feral cat, wanton hussy, angelic deceptive kitten, clawing tigress, anything - Chakotay let her be all those things without her feeling trapped or embarrassed. Embarrassment died with Chakotay and with him she experienced such a liberation that it was hard to believe that they had not touched each other in six months. She smiled inwardly as she remembered the faint bruises on her skin after their lovemaking last week. She had been guided by him, lured by his voice to touch herself, let her hands roam wherever he commanded her to. As if he had been there with her, she had felt his hands on her, felt him move in her… 

There was about Chakotay so much of the man and manliness and complete courtesy on the one hand and on the other, a smouldering passion that needed only a suggestion, a purring voice to set him off. Yet, he allowed her to play with him, tease him with ruthless abandon until he too writhed helplessly as passion drove them to the brink. 

******* 

She awoke from her deep reverie when a shadow fell across her, blocking the sun. The seat creaked as the man sat down. Kathryn smiled when she looked into Mark's face. His hand went to her shoulder in a relaxed gesture. 

"Kath, it's not like you to sit alone in the gardens of Starfleet Headquarters," he said conversationally. 

Kathryn patted his thigh. "There's a first time for everything - " 

"And nothing new under the sun…" 

"Yes, that too. What brings you here, Mark Johnson? I thought you were on your way to the Kolnari Convention." 

"I was just wondering why I haven't heard from my friend since her return two weeks ago. Has she gone into hiding, do you think, Kathryn?" 

"Mark! Am I supposed to give you an account of my movements?" 

He grinned sheepishly, but soon his face took on a tense look. He released his hand from her shoulder, leaned forward so that his elbows were braced on his knees and his laced his fingers, rolling his thumbs in maddening monotony. 

"You know, Kathryn…" He turned his face to look at her. "You were not aware that I had been standing here, watching you. You looked so deep in thought that it would have been an intrusion to have disturbed you. I have disturbed you…" He gave her a wistful smile. "I'm sorry." 

Kathryn leaned forward and touched his hand, stopped the thumbs from rolling again. 

"Don't be, Mark. Don't ever be. You're my friend and I need you in my life - " 

"Not anymore, Kathryn," he said. There was a sadness in his eyes, a passing of something he didn't want to mourn. He gave a little sigh. "I saw the way your face became animated. You were thinking of him, weren't you?" He turned to study his hands again, then gazed pensively over the wide lawns and the pond at the edge of it. 

"Yes. Yes…" she replied. 

She was unable to keep the softness from her eyes, the lines of strain that had been there most of the time when she left on missions, no longer there. He turned to look at her again and noted the bloom about her face, how she became flushed at the mention of Chakotay. Her eyes were alive, yet a mystery lurked in their depths, an awareness that she was cherished. He had never seen Kathryn like this. Another man put that look there. Another man had given his Kathryn a new destination, a remarkable journey she was undertaking with great zeal, suddenly dauntless of all pitfalls. Something, a giant hand with long fingers maybe, curled around his heart and squeezed it until he felt like crying out. He had wanted to be that man. He had dreamed of putting that look there. If truth be told, he had been naïve, thinking that what Kathryn had with him was enough to secure a comfortable framework for a relationship. But a few minutes ago, to see that look in her eyes, the way her whole face lit up - he hadn't been aware that there could be a difference, a difference so palpable that he knew in an instant that he had lost her. 

Half a lifetime of knowing Kathryn Janeway had bred a familiarity that had made her comfortable with him, made her reach for him in times of need, in times when she desired just camaraderie, a good companion with whom she could discuss science, politics, culture, philosophy…one with whom she could lie in bed and cuddle up, just having a good conversation. How had he thought in the last ten years that it would be enough for Kathryn Janeway? In the last five years when they had become closer than ever before, he had thought that he'd wait for her to initiate any intimacies she desired. He had kissed her, yes, on numerous occasions; there had been times when they had been close to making love and he entertained wild thoughts of elation that she had finally acquiesced to become his lover. He had been a patient man, too patient maybe. 

"Maybe I should have taken you to the concert after all." His voice was tinged with profound regret. 

"Maybe it was the very best present my very best friend could have given me," she replied, her hand squeezing his gently. She willed him to meet her gaze again. "You will always be a part of my life, Mark... Mark?" 

He sighed deeply again. It was unbearable to witness her happiness. He knew Kathryn hadn't seen Chakotay since the night of the command performance, but that they communicated regularly. He had never met Commander Chakotay, but he hadn't been sitting still. Just from the photograph alone, the man oozed sex appeal, but Mark knew with hindsight that Kathryn would need more than that, and the evidence before him testified to that fact alone: she would lose her heart to Chakotay, whatever his faults and foibles, his strengths and weaknesses. Still, as Kathryn's friend - the endorsement of that designation was hard to swallow, but he laid claim that he could be that for her when she fell, and the thought somehow comforted him - he felt he had to warn her. 

"Be careful, Kathryn," he said to her, his eyes dark with concern. He knew he was foolish to want to warn her; she was old enough to look after herself. But he had seen her hurt, he had seen her plunged into the depths of despair because she loved and lost. He had seen her love Justin; what he saw now in Kathryn Janeway, was something sublime, so deep, yet so fragile that he knew he would not want to see her heart broken. This time, there would be no abyss. There would be nothing. 

"I can look - " 

"I knew you'd say that, Kathryn. But, Kath, bear with me, will you, please?" 

Kathryn nodded. She shivered and he sat back, putting his arm around her shoulder again. On an impulse, she rested her head against his chest and Mark found pressing his lips to her hair irresistible; for the first time since had stood watching her when she had been so deep in thought, it was a gesture of solace, of comfort. When he spoke, his voice was soft. In these moments he was her friend, her brother who was giving her advice, albeit against her better judgment. He loved her with a burning deep inside him, but he knew, as he had accepted in the last half hour, that it would remain a flame that burned low, always giving light. Kathryn would never know that twice she had chosen another above him; she would never know that all he would ever be for her - friend, brother, confidant, even mentor, he would do with his heart and soul. He knew implicitly that whatever the journey was she was about to undertake, somewhere along that route, she would pause and look to him. And he would reach out to her and give her the comfort she would seek from him. He had a role in her life, for all time, and he felt honoured. 

"I think you are going to be hurt, Kathryn," he started. She looked up at him, her eyes clear, a frown marring her attractive face. He sighed, but needed to continue even though his heart felt heavy. "I can see you love Chakotay - " He smiled when she buried her face in his chest. "But, Kath, you'll be hurt and I don't want to see you hurt again. I've seen you like that before and we - your mother and Phoebe and I and other friends stood a little helpless because we couldn't alleviate your pain. You walked around for a long time with the scars..." 

Kathryn moved and sat a little away from him. He couldn't help it. He felt strange, like a portent had blown across the lawns of the gardens and the skies that had been blue earlier had suddenly clouded over. High up he could see a bird that hung like a falcon, suspended timelessly against the firmament, before it soared away again. 

"Mark, I appreciate that you are concerned. I know that there is always an element of risk in a relationship that wants to go deeper than just - just friendship. Chakotay - " She paused, looked over the lawns and the pond, a faraway look in her eyes, he thought. "Chakotay is a remarkable man, Mark. I know I can tell you, because you're my friend, that yes...I love him. I - " She stopped, looked at him again. "I didn't plan this, you know - " 

Only then Mark smiled. 

"No, Kath, when you think about it, I planned it." 

Kathryn gave a relieved laugh. 

"I believe I'm stronger this time, Mark. Chakotay is very protective, you know, even when I don't want him to be - " 

"Er...excuse me, Kath, you haven't seen Chakotay in six months, only communicated via subspace and - " 

"You'd be amazed who much you can learn through weekly comm - " 

"Oh, you communicated on a weekly basis?" 

"Mark, you're devious!" 

"But, seriously, how much did you learn?" He gave her a naughty wink and Kathryn blushed. "Ah, I...see..." He didn't have to say anything more to what he could imagine Kathryn and Chakotay could indulge in via subspace communication. 

"He's good for me, Mark," Kathryn reiterated. "I'll be meeting him here the day after tomorrow. He'll be based here, you know," she added. "Chakotay's taken a posting to lecture in Advanced Tactical Training. He's done that before..." Kathryn frowned. "That probably accounts why we never crossed paths before, yet we were at the Academy at about the same time. He started very early - " 

"I know, Kath," Mark replied, then he wanted to bite his tongue. 

"You've been checking? That's unlike you, Mark Johnson." 

"I'm only human, Kathryn. I wanted to know the man who put the stars back in Kathryn Janeway's eyes." 

She leaned her head against his chest again, her arms clutching at his waist. She gave a sigh that sounded to him like one of contentment. For a moment she gave him a hard squeeze, her fingers digging into him. 

"I love him, Mark." 

"I know, Kathryn. I know..." he sighed. 

**** 

Admiral Paris shook his head as he looked at Adam Ponsonby, his closest friend and colleague. They had been in conference since Owen arrived at his office, and it was now past 10h00. Ponsonby sat back in the chair, idly rubbing his temples and Owen didn't feel much better than his friend looked. 

"We need to send the best man in the field, Owen," Admiral Ponsonby said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Owen Paris shook his head. "The best man in the field has just accepted a commission to be based at the Academy for six months. I doubt whether he'll leave on a year long mission to the Cardassian borders. At the moment, the situation is manageable, Adam." 

"That may be so, but the threat lingers. We have Nechayev on it. But sometime soon, the keg will blow up. If we can know their activities in advance - " 

"I would suggest we wait, Adam. I'm certain Nechayev is thinking along those lines too. The Crimond's mission had been successful up to a point. But you know what we've been told, Adam. The Cardassians are not likely to give up that easily. Deep Space Nine may have been secured as a collaborative venture between the Federation and Bajor, with a wormhole as an important link. But you've read the reports from Andreas Buccholtz and Kathryn Janeway. The hostilities are simmering still. The threat may not be there anymore, but they're extending their range to other sectors. It's pervasive. When there's a truce secured again - " 

"We have to rely on the Ambassadors and other role players to do that, Owen. Meanwhile, defenceless homeworlds are under attack..." 

Owen Paris sighed. It would have been a good thing to send a man in now, but they had to wait. They didn't want a direct call to arms with Cardassia at this moment. The reports of their atrocities had been restricted so far to the Bajoran homeworld, but they were gradually expanding. There was growing unrest and unease amongst those worlds that felt the Federation could offer them protection - planets that were outside Federation space. 

"Commander Chakotay would have been the perfect man for the job, Owen." 

"I know. He's our man. He's also romantically involved, Adam. My guess is that that is in part why he's been commissioned for his new post." When Adam frowned, Owen enlightened him. "Gretchen's daughter." 

"Kathryn?" 

"Certainly not Phoebe." Owen looked at his friend. Tall and thin, Adam Ponsonby was still a bachelor, at the ripe old age of seventy. But at the mention of Gretchen Janeway's name, Adam's face had become little flushed. Owen knew that Adam was attracted to the widow. Gretchen, however, didn't like Adam Ponsonby much. 

"Kathryn... I daresay...I've not seen them together though - " 

"He escorted her to the Command Performance six months ago." 

"So they're an item. I daresay," responded Ponsonby in his pedantic manner. "An item…" 

"In a manner of speaking. I understand they've been communicating regularly while he was in the Gamma Quadrant." Owen paused, looked pointedly at his friend. "Do I detect some wheels turning in your head, Adam Ponsonby?" 

Ponsonby smiled. "Owen, look, the Ormskirk will dock the day after tomorrow. Perhaps we can speak with Commander Chakotay in accepting the new commission - " 

Owen Paris nodded soberly. He rubbed his temples and gave a sigh. 

"Fine. It's worth a try, Adam. I foresee serious portents of danger for the Federation..." 

**** 

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, will there be a meeting between Kathryn and Chakotay? After a separation of six months, it should be about time!

* * *

 

What was she thinking? Kathryn Janeway was sitting in her Paris apartment the day before Chakotay was to arrive at Starfleet Headquarters. She had to meet Chakotay the next day and suddenly, there were butterflies crawling inside her.

Why this onset of apprehension? she wondered.

Why? Mark was why. Admirals Paris and Ponsonby were the reason why. That's what.

She was not normally given to these attacks of the willies, that the anticipation of meeting Chakotay the next day was going to be the most difficult thing to do. She had been excited, her insides quivering every time she just thought of his arrival and how she would stand near the transporter platforms and run into his arms the moment he materialised there. He was only to meet with his superiors the following day, so they had a good day and a half to get truly acquainted.

She swore by Apollo that it had been the longest six months of her life. Chakotay swore it along with her. He had contacted her a few days ago to make sure there was no mis-communication with the agreed meeting place, and then he had sworn his undying allegiance to her. She had been frustrated then, wanting to crawl right into her vidcom and kiss him until he couldn't breathe, or something. She had been certain, seeing the glow in Chakotay's eyes that he had wanted to do things with her, in the flesh, so to speak.

Mark. Admirals Paris and Ponsonby. She was convinced they conspired against her goodwill and peace with the man of her dreams.

Only yesterday she'd had that conversation with Mark, and while she'd given him a not so willing ear to his reservations, she had been gratified that he had not seen her association with Chakotay as harmful per se  to her everlasting peace of mind. He acknowledged, albeit with much pain that she had seen him attempt to hide, that she loved Chakotay. But it had come with the old conditions and warnings close friends and family were so fond of doing with those they loved, being concerned for her welfare.

Mark's quiet remonstrations had not fallen on deaf ears, though she had to admit that her concern was not about questioning Chakotay's faith and trust in her, or hers in him, but that she was afraid for Chakotay. That she had successfully managed to allay Mark's concerns, was only on the surface. She hated to admit it, but when she had taken time to sit back again after he had left, she had been given to more introspection. She loved Chakotay with all her heart, but how could she not help letting certain doubt settle in after Mark had been through with her?

The simmering atmosphere of unrest in the Federation had not died down, and she was certain that it wouldn't die down in the foreseeable future. While they were not directly affected, it seemed so distant still. That Chakotay had made the decision to be based at the Academy for six months at least, gave her a measure of peace. But his family, his own homeworld was at risk. She was certain Chakotay was aware of that by now. There was not an officer ranking higher than Lieutenant who wasn't aware of the turmoil between Cardassia and the Federation.

This morning early she had been summoned by Admiral Paris and his cohort Adam Ponsonby to try and convince Chakotay to be of service to the Federation.

Kathryn wanted to tell them Chakotay was already working for the Federation, have they forgotten? What more did they want? He had already placed his life at risk more times than he could remember, and the latest, almost dying following a plunge down a mine shaft. Now he had a leg that took forever to heal, as if 24th century medical technology took a step back and said: "Sorry, Commander, but after a certain level of treatment, you're on your own". 

She had not wanted to agree to Admirals Paris and Ponsonby's proposal. Personally, she felt that Tom Paris, the Admiral's son, was a far better candidate for the job, although Tom had seen to it that he was stationed as far from his father as possible.

Kathryn knew it was a selfish sentiment to want Chakotay to herself for six months. She hadn't seen him in six months. At least not, physically and face to face. She missed him and wanted her first day with him untrammelled by  Federation Duties and Commissions. She and Andreas Buccholtz had themselves headed a little foray into Bajor where they had to speak to dozens of survivors of the Cardassian purge, and the stories they heard from them made her skin crawl. Their methods were evil, Gestapo-like in their execution. She wondered whether the Cardassians had had insight into that period of Earth's history to lay waste so many homeworlds with such thoroughness and aggression.

Then there was Dalene, who wanted to know which way Andreas Buccholtz went.

"He's gone to Mars, Day. His family settled there."

"And?" Dalene's smile teased, then her face tensed.

"He's married, Dalene."

There was an uneasy silence for a few seconds. Dalene had given her a look, for the first time allowed Kathryn to see that she was vulnerable. Dalene, sparkling, together, unafraid, asking after a man who for once, did not bite the hook. It wasn't that Dalene had gone out looking for someone to hook - she just never allowed herself to get ensnared herself. Then Andreas Buccholtz happened, and the normally ebullient Dalene Petranoff became quiet whenever mention was made of him. She tried to hide it behind her old veneer of wise-cracks and off-handedness.

Kathryn hadn't wanted to remind Dalene of his two daughters... But Dalene was Dalene. She knew about them and knew how much he loved his children. It wasn't something he readily walked around dishing out personal information to others. In that respect Captain Buccholtz pretty much conformed to the notion that Starfleet Captains rarely let their emotions be shown, or known. It was in moments when the two of them had been in consultation in his ready room, that she'd seen his longing gaze at a picture of his twin girls. There were problems in his marriage, but that was all she knew.

"He hasn't lived with his wife for a long time," Dalene replied.

"It still makes him a married man."

"I know....sorry."

"Don't be, Day. One day, who knows?"

"Yeah, who knows...?"

Dalene had been pensive in her company after that, and Kathryn felt a little sorry for her. Perhaps sometime soon, if the hapless Andreas Buccholtz didn't tell Dalene himself, she should encourage her captain to tell Dalene how he felt about her. On their last day, just before they docked at Earth's Orbital Station, Andreas had asked her about Dalene in an off-hand manner that made her think that there was more than met the eye with her commanding officer. A kind, quiet man, probably a lot like Chakotay, Kathryn realised with hindsight, he had met Dalene on a few occasions when she'd been on the arm of another man, inevitably. Dalene had never been short of male company, though she was certainly not the bed hopping type. Still, Kathryn realised suddenly, they were merely Dalene's safety nets, her protection against losing her heart to Andreas Buccholtz. Dalene knew already that keeping herself armed against falling in love and risking it all over again, was a fruitless task. Andreas Buccholtz though, was not immune to Dalene's charm. Kathryn sensed there was something deep burgeoning between them.

"He likes you though," Kathryn told her friend, not giving more than she knew Andreas Buccholtz would have appreciated, considering how private he was.

"Yeah, right. That should make me sleep peaceful tonight," she replied a little acidly.

She wasn't going to tell Dalene that Andreas had asked about her. The man should do his own courting, Kathryn thought. It was something Andreas had to confront Dalene with himself. He had simply gone to fetch his little girls on Mars. More than that he would not tell her, but Kathryn had surmised that he had finally decided to make the split with Eleanor Buccholtz final and that she was willing to part with her girls.

Kathryn shook her head.

If I had a daughter, I would never want to give her up, never. A child who would look like Chakotay, born of our love. To give her up? Never.

Kathryn pictured a little girl, daughter of Chakotay, who would look like her Daddy, with his dimples. A little girl with bright eyes, raven's hair and angel's wings, whom she would love with all her heart. A little voice seemed to ask: Okay, Janeway, so what if the gods conspired against you and gave you a little boy?

Why, I'd love him just as much…

She gave herself a mental shake. Her conversation with the admirals still weighed too heavily, and she needed to get them off her mind. She had been too preoccupied with her consultation with them today and coming to Paris immediately after her talk with Paris and Ponsonby when she had to be back in San Francisco the next day seemed an exercise in futility. But she could think here. She needed to be away from Headquarters while she thought about their suggestions. She needed to justify in her mind just why she had been foolish enough to listen in the first place, or better still, try and forget them. They could find another person. There were plenty of eligible officers.. If she could only have Chakotay by her side, she'd have no problem. They'd be too busy kissing and translating cyber sex into the real thing…

"Admiral Paris" she had said this morning in his office, "you realise of course that Commander Chakotay is within his right to turn down the commission you're offering."

She had been bristling a little. They knew very well of her close association with Chakotay and knew that she could probably persuade Chakotay to work with them. From Admiral Paris she had learned most of what she knew today as a command track officer and as a science officer on her earlier commissions. He had been her mentor during her Academy days. Admiral Ponsonby... The man was a wuss for not seeing that her mother was really in love with him. Why, he was fawning all over Gretchen Janeway whenever he was in her company. Ponsonby, smart, suave, eloquent and sometimes too pedantic, who was Starfleet's most eligible bachelor over the age of sixty, stammered in her mother's company. Kathryn knew that he was in love with Gretchen Janeway. If only her mother realised that herself and married the man. He would be good for her, and she liked the Admiral.

That was her mistake. She liked and admired the two men. She allowed them to sway her because of that. The two fogies knew that.  Oh, how they knew that.

"I understand that, Kathryn," said Owen Paris, and Kathryn had wanted to bristle further. When he called her by her name while it was an official briefing, it was always his way of wheedling something from her. She wasn't falling for that. "But, Kathryn," Owen continued, "very soon, if not now, we will be calling our most able personnel in the Tactical field to form the vanguard of our counter-offensives - "

"What?"

"You heard, Kathryn. It's more serious than we thought, and though they can be held off for now, we'll have difficulty in the future."

She had given a sigh, Owen Paris smiled his benign smile when he knew he had just accomplished something, and Adam Ponsonby smirked. She wanted to consign the both of them to damnation and kick herself for relenting to their pressure.

"I'll see what I can do, Admiral Paris," she said formally, then she turned to Adam Ponsonby and smiled sweetly. "Have you been to visit Indiana lately, Admiral Ponsonby? It's very beautiful this time of the year..." She paused deliberately, gratified to see the handsome bachelor blush.

Just as she closed the door on her way out, she imagined she heard Admiral Paris exclaim:

"They've got our number!"

*************

So now she was sitting, wondering why she was still in Paris and tomorrow she had to be in San Francisco. Chakotay would most certainly be happy to see her; this meeting was four months in coming, since she had first made the move to contact him. Her relief had been so great then when he hadn't turned down her advances. It was an instant recognition of a mutual need they had acknowledged to, and somehow, the intervening months had been good, giving both of them an opportunity to get to know one another well.

Communicating via subspace was perhaps not the ideal, but they were still able to make eye contact, learn of each other's foibles, even sense what fears they had.

If giving herself to him had been initially something she had been afraid of doing because she didn't want to lose him, it must have been hard on him too. He had told her about Caroline Meissen. Chakotay had been embarrassed, not about his love for her, but the manner in which she had betrayed that love, and trod on it. It wasn't easy, as she had seen the expression on his face , a mixture of guilt, embarrassment, bitterness -  even a lost look that made her heart cry out for him. He had not wanted to make himself vulnerable again.

"But, Kathryn, what can I do when my heart, my body cries out for you? What can I do when I look at you and realise that my life is incomplete?" Chakotay had paused long before he spoke again.

"My life, it's not mine anymore, you know. It belongs to you..."

It had been a terrifying admission Chakotay had made, for he was giving her the key to his heart and his life; a weapon with which she could destroy him, if she chose. In essence, she had done the same. Her life belonged to Chakotay…

Caroline Meissen had chosen to destroy him. She, Kathryn Janeway, could never do that to him, even though he had given her that power. That was what it meant to him, and to her, that they were both prepared now, after so much trauma and extreme pain and heartache, to walk that road again, and be vulnerable.

Kathryn was pacing. She rose from her couch and stood by her mantelpiece where she had first put little Grey Eagle, and took the picture of Chakotay she had gotten when he finally relented she capture it from the Federation database. Caressing the cool glass, her eyes became soft as she looked at his face. His objection had been purely self-derisive, she thought.

"I'm the ugliest man on Earth, Kathryn. That's not a good picture. When I get to Earth, I'll have some new ones taken, okay? Maybe I'll look a little better - "

"What do you want me to say, Chakotay? You're dashing, tall, dark, strong and handsome?"

"I'd like that!"

She had laughed at his teasing manner and the way his face relaxed. He had been in pain that day just after Sergei had worked on his leg again and she had attempted to cheer him up, to make him forget his pain.

Kathryn pressed her lips to the picture and closed her eyes. Tomorrow she would at last be Chakotay's arms. At last. Her heart pumped wildly at the prospect. She felt like an adolescent planning a meeting in the most fantastic and dramatic way. On an impulse, wondering why she hadn't thought of it, she walked back to her bedroom and carefully placed the photograph down on her bedside. She sat down heavily and gave a sigh. Then she got up again and walked to her small office and after entering a few codes, she opened communication. After about a minute, a face stared at her.

"Kathryn, this had better be good."

"I have to meet Chakotay tomorrow at Headquarters."

"And you want to know what to do? Kathryn Janeway doesn't know what to do?"

"Yes! No! Oh, damn... Mom, help me out here..."

"Kathryn Janeway, I'm not helping you. Get lost!"

Gretchen Janeway burst out laughing. The sound of her laughter still rang in Kathryn's ears long after her mother had signed off.

*** 

Chakotay, Sergei Karkoff and Roger Petranoff made their way to the transporter room of the Ormskirk. They had finally docked at Earth's Orbital station and after completing numerous reports for their debriefing in two days' time and leaving only a skeleton staff on board, the prospect of putting their feet on solid ground was a pleasant one.

"So, Chakotay, I shall now officially lose the best first officer I ever had," Roger Petranoff complained. They quickly greeted crewmembers who made their way past them.

"Don't worry, Roger. We'll both be able to review the new recommendations of applicants. I'm certain there will be another good first officer for you."

"I'm thinking of putting down roots here, too," Sergei said as they entered the transporter room. The transporter chief gave them a wide grin. Lieutenant-Commander Ren Boardman had been waiting for them.

"Gentlemen, enjoy your shore leave."

"Thank you, Ren."

"I want to be here when my daughter is born, Chakotay," Sergei said as the mounted the transporter pad and waited for Ren to enter the commands.

"Well, we'll be off in two months, again, Sergei. Perhaps now is the time to make that application to Starfleet Medical - "

"You're wanting to get rid of me, Roger? I'm hurt - "

"Nonsense, you're the best man in the business dealing with this man - " and Roger pointed to Chakotay who carried his duffel over one arm, and the other, his walking stick. Chakotay snorted with disgust.

"You know I hate being dependent, Roger. It's time that - "

"Ready?" Ren Boardman's voice interrupted them. The men nodded and seconds later there was a soft glissando as they were engulfed in the blue shimmer of the transporter beam.

*** 

He had been wanting to see her since forever, it seemed. Was it only a few days ago that they last talked and made final arrangements for their meeting? Kathryn had been in high spirits and they were both in bantering mood. Before they signed off, they had touched their screens, tracing lines where their fingers followed. "I love you…" she breathed softly before the screen went blank.

When he materialised on the transporter platform at Headquarters, the large auditorium was filled with people. Sergei had just time to greet him quickly because already he spotted Svetlana and Anatoly. The boy rushed towards his father, with a heavily pregnant Svetlana looking indulgently on as Sergei scooped his son high in the air.

"Well, I'll be off then," Roger Petranoff said as he walked towards Dalene who was making her way to him. She had given Chakotay a hasty greeting, then seemed to change her mind.

"Chakotay! Good to see you. Kathryn's meeting you here. How romantic! How exciting!"

Chakotay smiled at the ebullient Dalene, who gasped, looked at her brother and gasped again. "Oh, boy, I'd like to witness this…"

"Not on your life, Dalene Petranoff," her brother said laughingly. "You've done your duty, got them together, they're together, now leave them alone."

"Alone? Are you crazy? This has got to be the Romance of the Year!"

"And you'll be the Wart of the Year if we don't get our transport. Let's go!"

"Roger! How boring can you get? Let's wait - !"

Roger Petranoff grabbed his sister's arm and pulled her along with him.

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon at the debriefing," Chakotay called after him, to which Roger just waved his acknowledgement without looking back.

Chakotay smiled. He looked around. There were many people waiting for their loved ones, but Chakotay knew Kathryn's face would stand out in the crowd. He should have seen her by now. He frowned, looking over the heads of the people. He didn't spot her. Perhaps she was running a little late, or had gone to powder her nose. But…she should have been here by now.

"Hey, Chakotay," Sergei said as he waved to his friend, "I'll see you sometime, will you? Before I leave on my next mission - "

"Bye, Uncle Chakotay," Anatoly waved at him. He was sitting on his father's shoulders. Chakotay smiled at his godson and waved, blowing a kiss to Svetlana who clutched possessively at her husband, but who did smile at him. Chakotay understood. Like with him and Kathryn, Svetlana  hadn't seen her husband in six months and even Anatoly has grown much taller in the time his father had been away.

"Bye, squirt," Chakotay called back to the boy.

"Be sure to bring Kathryn with when you visit us," Sergei ordered as the trio left.

"Chakotay?" a voice said near him and when he looked, saw with surprise that it was  Dalene Petranoff. She had returned after sacking her brother no doubt, and she looked more serious than she had minutes earlier. "You're much handsomer than I thought," she said. She grinned when a flush spread across Chakotay's face. He could feel the heat of it. "I just wanted to greet you properly before I left," she added. "My brother…he's a real pain in the rear, isn't he?" She grinned and Chakotay nodded, suddenly grateful that Dalene did return

"You're Kathryn's friend. I  - I wonder..."

"She's not here to meet with you?" Dalene asked, the grin replaced by a look of surprise.

"Well," he said, still looking over the heads of the people, "she was supposed to be here - "

"Chakotay, look, I have to go now, but I'm sure Kathryn will be here. She was probably held up. You know whenever she's at Headquarters, the Admirals appear to appropriate her as their property."

"She's told me that part of her work was done. It's the holiday part of her working holiday - "

"I...understand," Dalene replied, then she winked naughtily. "My brother's waiting. The man needs a wife - "

"Yes, you tell him that, Dalene."

"See you," she greeted him airily as she moved into the direction where her brother was waiting impatiently for her.

Chakotay cursed again as his leg started aching. He had to see Dr Paris in a few days. He leaned heavily on his walking stick. Only a week ago he had had another session with Sergei who warned him to be careful with his leg. He walked towards the entrance of the wide forum, hoping he’d see Kathryn. He was getting a little nervous that she hadn’t arrived yet. She couldn’t be at her Paris apartment, surely? He thought they had been pretty clear on where they were going to stay, after which they could plan their future lazily. In the foyer he spotted an empty bench and headed for it, trying his best not to limp. The pain had been getting worse and he wondered idly if he shouldn’t see Dr Paris immediately. But, on the Ormskirk he had been pumped so full of painkillers he wanted to get away from it. It clouded his brain and dimmed his senses. He didn’t want that, not now, now that he was going to see Kathryn. His heart lurched wildly as he saw a golden haired woman in command red heading his way. He wanted to rise from his seat, but sagged back with acute disappointment as the woman came closer and he realised it wasn’t Kathryn.

So he waited.

The foyer and transporter areas had been empty. It was quiet with only here and there someone moving about silently. It was the silence that got to him, making him entertain all sorts of options where Kathryn could be. She wouldn’t…couldn’t leave him now… She couldn’t get cold feet. Not now, Kathryn, please…was his thought.

Half an hour later there was still no sign of Kathryn. Deciding to head to the main building of Headquarters, he grabbed his duffel again, hated the walking stick because he had to lean on it, and ambled slowly to Admiral Paris’s office. If anyone knew of Kathryn’s whereabouts, it had to be Admiral Paris. She had to meet him a few days ago. Perhaps Owen Paris had some idea. He didn’t want to alert too many people and thereby making his own need of Kathryn known to the entire Starfleet public. She couldn’t possibly be in Indiana, he thought, but…spirits! He wondered what happened to her.

Long minutes later he stood in front of Admiral Paris’s office and pressed the chime. When he heard Admiral Paris hail him to enter, the doors slid open. Owen Paris was seated at his desk and he looked up and frowned when he saw Chakotay. The frown soon changed to surprise, followed by a querying look in his bright blue eyes.

“Commander Chakotay. This is a surprise. What can I do for you?” Only then he noticed the walking stick and he frowned again.

“Relic of an accident five months ago, Admiral.”

“If you’re walking with that kind of assistance, it must have been a severe injury, Commander.”

“Please, Admiral, it’s Chakotay.” The old man smiled, and as Admiral Paris indicated he sit down. Chakotay sank gratefully into the chair. “There were too many bone fragments, sir. Sergei Karkoff has kindly let me loose into the care of Dr Paris – “

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes, I’m to be her patient while I’m stationed here.”  Chakotay leaned a little forward, eager to ask Admiral Paris, but the gentleman anticipated his intent.

“So, Commander Chakotay, what can I do for you?” Admiral Paris had also leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on his desk top. He smiled.

Chakotay cleared his throat, wondering how he could put it to Owen Paris. Then he decided to take the plunge.

“Kathryn was supposed to meet me here, Admiral. It’s now almost an hour – “

“She hasn’t turned up?” Admiral Paris appeared surprised.

“You don’t have any idea where she could be?”

“She was in here yesterday – “ Admiral Paris clamped shut instantly as he realised he gave  Kathryn’s unscheduled visit  away. “Maybe it’s that she’s late, Chakotay. You know how it is. Anything can happen…”

“I understand, Admiral. However, our arrangement was very clear.”

“She may be in Paris – “

“In Paris?” Chakotay sighed, feeling deflated that Kathryn seemed to have vanished, or decided to remain in Paris. .

“She headed that way yesterday, Chakotay. She may still be there…”

“She promised she’d meet me here, Admiral Paris.”

“Then, Commander, I’m afraid I don’t know where she is. Perhaps her parents’ apartment?”

Chakotay shook his head. Kathryn’s sister Phoebe was home on a short break and she was currently staying there. Unless Kathryn had decided to go there. He gave a deep sigh. Admiral Paris didn’t know. Kathryn had certainly not gone off-world, that’s for certain. They would have known where she would be then. But without a combadge, Kathryn’s private movements might well be dead.

Chakotay rose from his seat, slowly. He grit his teeth as a wave of pain hit him. He looked at Owen Paris and through a haze he saw the old man rise too, and hold out his hand. Chakotay shook it.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to scout around. I'll go to Paris…”

Chakotay greeted Owen Paris sombrely, then left. When he came outside, he leaned against the wall, his forehead beaded with drops of perspiration. He drew in a few long gasps of breath, feeling the whole place take on a surreal look. He imagined he saw Kathryn run towards him from the end of the corridor. Blinking hard, he willed away the images, the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach deepening.

He was worried. Worried sick that Kathryn must have changed her mind. Very slowly, he moved down the corridor and made his way outside the building. When he came outside, the mid-morning sun hit him. Shielding his face with his hand, he blinked again.

Where could she have gone to? he wondered. More importantly, why wasn’t she here to meet him? She had been excited to see him again after six long months. She loved him. She couldn’t have changed her mind about that, surely? Her feelings for him were the same was it was a month ago, two months ago. Did she have second thoughts about becoming his lover? His body burned for her, he longed for her with a thirst that raged in him. She was his destination. Too long he had flown without much direction and now that he met her, fell in love with her, he knew where he was heading.

He moved slowly in the direction of the transports, and deep in thought he got into a flitter and headed towards the residential districts of San Francisco. He’d have to go all the way to Paris to meet her there, he supposed. But first, he’d have to hail her on his vidcom and ask her about why she didn’t come to meet him at Headquarters. He had a right to ask that, didn't he?

He was certain that she had a logical excuse. She couldn’t even be sick, for heaven’s sake. And if she were, why didn’t she let him know? Then again, if she were sick, she’d not want him to be worried, as he knew she’d say the minute he opened her door this afternoon when he asked her. It was all he wanted to do. He wasn’t into trailing her every move; he wasn't following her around or checking on her, but she did promise.

"Oh, Kathryn," he murmured softly as he got out of his transport and limped the rest of the way home. "Why didn't you come?"

******************

There was not a dark cloud in the sky that was heavier than the feeling in his heart as he stood at the door of his apartment. Kathryn was gone, probably in Paris. He had a need to cry like a child, express his disappointment the way a child would. He had so many expectations, so many visions of how Kathryn would walk towards him, with that curvy half smile on her face. Her hair would fan away from her face as she moved, seductively swaying her hips and he knew that he'd not care how many inquisitive people were watching, but he'd scoop her high in his arms right there and kiss her until she could breathe no more. He imagined feeling her body melting into his as he held her close. He imagined whispering on stammering breaths how much he had missed her and how much he loved her.

He pictured her as he put her down again, looking at him with her heart in her eyes, her lips red and parted, her hair a little mussed the way he had run his fingers through it.

He wanted that for his first meeting with her. He groaned. That moment was gone forever, and it was something he would hurt himself thinking about. There would be no grand meetings for them. Maybe never. He groaned again as his heart constricted. Then he gave a  deep sigh and opened his door. The door slid open and he stepped into his home for the first time in more than six months. He was home and he was unhappy. The small passage that led to his lounge closed in on him as he stood for a moment to collect himself. He threw down his duffel and took a deep breath.

He was home and he didn't want to be. There was nothing here. Nothing. Nothing.

He need to sit down, to think. No, thinking just made him mad with need for her. A drink was what he needed. He needed Oblivion. Something strong, something that...

Chakotay blinked as he stepped into his lounge. He blinked again.

He would remember later not clear images of Kathryn, but hazy impressions of golden hair and a blue dress...

He stared.

It was nothing like he ever imagined. It was better. It was so...Kathryn!

Then she spoke, her voice low, mellow, welcome, beautiful.

"I thought I'd meet you here, darling Chakotay..."

"Kathryn? Oh, God, Kathryn..."

"My love..."

**** 

TBC

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the meeting finally takes place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter [8] concludes BOOK ONE: BEGINNINGS. Following book is entitled :TEARS.

BOOK ONE: BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER EIGHT 

In the early evening the setting sun lay red against the horizon of San Francisco Bay. In long streaks the sun's rays kissed the glistening water, and the backdrop of the glow that swelled into the sky and mingled with its brilliant hue of azures and white, left a breathtaking image to be captured permanently on an artist’s canvas - lazy brush strokes that shaded in a tapestry, each dab a loving, searing touch to preserve a poignant memory. 

Through the window that overlooked the bay, the golden-orange-red silently made its way out of the room, allowing the twilight to grow ever darker. It was not a sudden change, but a slow swelling, gradual acknowledgement that the time has come for the light to fade gently and allow its counterpart to take precedence. It was quiet, so quiet that mostly, the sounds from outside of people moving about their last business for the day were on the periphery of the conscious. Like afterthoughts they registered only faintly long after the sound had been made. Still, on the carpeted floor of the room, a belated warmth fused with the shade of the pile and deepened the tone of intimacy that had pervaded the apartment since the morning. Like a well received play in which the curtain lowered silently over the drama that had unfolded for the audience who sighed with great satisfaction at happy ending, the sun moved away and darkness settled. It was a darkness filled with benevolence, a sigh of welcoming by the participants and audience alike. 

Therefore, night came and was welcomed, a visitor that would stay temporarily and return again another day, but in compassion would let the moon and the stars provide silhouettes and relief, creating interesting interplay of shadows and light. On the bed, lost in a tangle of sheets, Kathryn Janeway lay next to a sleeping Chakotay, their forms bathed in the very interplay of shadow and light. Their legs were entwined, caught up in the crumpled sheets and the only sound in the room, their even breathing. She lay cosseted in his arms, her palm resting on his chest, with his hand covering hers in a gesture that marked not so much possession, but sharing. 

Kathryn lay awake, hardly stirring, except when she moved her face to nestle into his neck again, and to press her lips against his skin, closing her eyes in the benediction of the kiss. Most times when she had done that, Chakotay stirred slightly, as if somewhere in his sleep, he could still experience the sense of being awake and awareness of the touch of her mouth on him. In those moments when Kathryn’s lips caressed him and her eyes closed, she could feel the burn behind her closed eyelids. There had been hardly a moment since they slaked their thirst of each other that she didn’t reflect on the wonder of what had happened between them, or the joy that replaced the look of utter desolation on his face when he realised that she had not left him. 

It had been his litany during the day, expressing in a physical way their coming together. He had been afraid, and sometimes had cried out his need, that she not leave him. But the short period before he returned home, that she had of necessity been forced to let him suffer needlessly a little longer, had been worth every heartache, worth every yeaning and hungry avowal of her feelings for him. She had done so many things on an impulse in the last months that the decision not to meet him at the transporter site had been a natural action that was borne out of her need – and Chakotay’s, she believed – to have their first meeting something very intimate and private. Just for this time. 

She had decided to wear her blue dress, had not told anyone of her movements and deactivated her commbadge so that she couldn’t be traced for at least an hour after Chakotay arrived. He would come home, she knew, with perhaps the decision to go to Paris to look for her there. She knew he had arrived when she heard the front door slide open. It had been impulsive, and now, with hindsight, the right thing to do. She hadn't wanted to punish Chakotay, but just the look on his face when he saw her... She had worn her blue dress and, on an impulse, decided that underwear would be redundant... 

Kathryn felt the tears sting again as she remembered the look on his face this morning… 

* 

"My love…" 

Chakotay dropped his duffel and walking stick in the same instant Kathryn rushed forward and into his arms. 

"Oh, Kathryn, Kathryn…" he murmured brokenly as he held her close to him. 

"I missed you, missed you, missed you," she cried against him. 

When she looked at his face, she could have sworn he was on the verge of tears. The despair that she had seen in his bearing the moment he entered the lounge, turned to rapture. She knew he must have thought that she had left him, got cold feet... With infinite gentleness she pressed her palm against his cheek. She could feel how his body still trembled, how he pressed into her hand and closed his eyes. Her other hand caressed his hair, her fingers fluttering over closed eyelids, over lips that quivered, fingers that brushed away a tear that seeped through. She breathed again softly her old supplication of the last months: "I love you..." 

Chakotay opened his fevered eyes. 

"I - I have waited a lifetime too long for this moment..." 

Then he started kissing her. His face was warm, feverish, his lips searing her the hollow in her neck, her forehead, her closed eyes, her mouth. For a long moment they just kissed, hungrily feasting their lips on each other, mingling breath and short gasps, halting breathing as his fingers laced into her hair and she arched her neck, feeling his lips burn into her skin. Nothing was cool in those moments. Chakotay burned her up as he blazed a trail over the planes of her face, pausing here and there to feast a little longer, prolong the ecstasy a little more intense. She cried out against him, feeling her own tears daring to cool the heat between them. His touches were gentle, tender, full of the wonder of his tactile experience of her under his ministration. Fire...water...a blessed gentle breeze...yet earth remained aloof, hardly eager to receive them. His touches were blessings, a thirst long denied that in a rush of tender passion, manifest itself in his soft groaning and occasional pained cries as he tasted her. 

She melted into him, felt his need as he responded with a deep moan. She wanted more...more... Her desire was clear. She pulled his face harder against her, biting his lip when he thought to remove his darting tongue their pained probing. Then the first gentle exploration soon turned to a wild hunger that wanted assuaging as he ground his lips against her mouth, and those moments that he released her mouth temporarily to take a short breath, her mouth was open against his neck, breathless in her ecstasy; his hands were all over her, caressing, rubbing, gripping at times hard at her breasts - movements that hastened almost inelegantly towards a roughness that both welcomed, because it was all they could do: cling to one another in the storm that broke about them in frightening abandon. He pained her, pleasured her. Somehow, the pleasure subjugated the pain as his hands gripped, his teeth nipped a little too hard. Her heart beat wildly in such arrhythmic splendour that she felt her ribcage would explode. She gave him measure for measure. Her hands were not still, nor were her teeth as she found pleasure in drawing blood from his lower lip, or nails that scored his neck in a desperate effort to release the frenzied seeking to assimilate herself with him. 

She knew she must have looked like a wanton hussy... 

When Chakotay at last released her, his eyes…. 

Dear God! Chakotay’s eyes! He did not look so demented anymore, so completely lacking in control. There was in his eyes a mission, like he knew explicitly what he was going to do. How could she not respond to that wildness, his barely concealed raw aggression? She waited, knew her eyes told her how she was going to welcome him. 

"Kathryn, my love," he growled, "the second time we make love today, I swear by all that is holy, I’ll caress you with all the gentleness I have in me and that I want to shower on you… 

"But…?" She waited, bated breath, anticipating nothing, yet knowing… 

"Right now, Kathryn Janeway, I’m not going to be a very nice man." 

"Right now, Chakotay, I don't want a very nice man," she breathed provocatively. 

"Then be prepared, Kathryn..." 

Kathryn parted her lips and in the next instant, his hand reached for the neckline of her dress and in a single movement Chakotay tore the dress from her body. 

He showed no surprise when he saw she was naked. 

"Yes!" she crowed in triumph as he took his fill of her. Chakotay gripped her shoulders and pressed her roughly down to the floor. 

There was no gentle foreplay; there was no preparation that Kathryn needed in those heated moments. It was Chakotay who simply opened the barest of his uniform for the urgency of his passion to find expression for joining his body with hers roughly, hurriedly. 

By the time she lay back on the carpet, Chakotay had settled over her, grabbed clumps of her hair and spread her legs wide. He didn't speak; there was no incoherent speech of undying devotion, no sweet endearments, no pleas to be gentle. 

Just hard breathing. 

Just the feeling of him filling her. 

No hands that fumbled or guided or pressed open soft folds. 

He found her unerringly, a shaft of heat that seared its way swiftly into her. 

She gave a loud groan as she welcomed him. He was hard, big - too big, she noted absently as he found her slight dryness so inciting that in a quick thrust he had lodged himself to her hilt. Ten years of abstinence vanished like mist before the sun as she adjusted to him, the release of her juices a welcome lubricant. Kathryn cried out with pleasure. Oh, God! He felt so good in her...so good.... She lifted to allow him deeper into her and far-off she could hear how he cried out. Somewhere she had registered that his trousers, which he only minimally pushed aside or opened, grazed her skin as he started ramming into her. 

Unstoppable, not willing in the least to exercise any control, Chakotay pulled out almost to his tip, then pounded hard. She rocked up as he grunted, her body arching off the floor as his hands still locked in her hair. Then he loosened their grip and he locked his hands with hers, trapping them above her head. His face contorted as he pushed her to the limit. Then he bent to grab her nipple in his mouth, and she emitted a sharp cry at the pleasured pain of his strong suckling. It incited her and she pushed further into him. He released that nipple, red and tender before he caught the other nipple in his mouth; all the time as he sucked, he rocked her, pounding rhythmically in and out. She had no time to think, no time to feel the rug burning, just ride on the waves of ecstasy as her body complied and tuned itself to his rhythm, erratic, halting at first, too hurriedly needing to fuse himself so completely with her that there was no beginning, no end to Chakotay and Kathryn, but one unit melting down a wondrous, glorious ore from which the molten gold was born. 

Chakotay rode her hard, oblivious of niceties, mindless of any decorum that made their act of love look modest and timid. There was no timidity, only a hard riding of the waves that brooked no stopping as they rushed headlong towards the shore and in a screaming, terrifying moment, the waves thundered and crashed over, spent itself in helpless abandon as Chakotay collapsed on her at last. Kathryn's body had tensed at the moment of impact; she arched high against him and cried…cried…cried… All the time he looked into her eyes, never caring that his face contorted into a passionate rage of expense, and she? She had died ten thousand times as she found her rhythm with him, glorying in his complete aggression and dominance of her body that did not reject his aggression and dominance, but welcomed it. Somewhere, sometime she knew, she would receive the full benefit of the gentle man. 

Still he did not speak when he gave his final shudder in her then rolled away with a sigh that came from his very depths. He lay next to her exhaling deeply, his eyes closed, his face beaded with sweat. She had been giddy, the moment of climax so dizzying that it had taken a few minutes for the room to stop turning around her. When she could focus again, she lifted herself on her side to look at him. 

There were no words spoken. 

Yet. 

He lay still, and although his face was turned to her, his eyes were closed. The sight of him was strange, erotic; the opening of his trousers just enough to reveal the still quivering member. Kathryn smiled and touched his shaft. It glistened, engorged, sensitive, twitching as she let her fingertips stroke the underside along its length. Chakotay shuddered at her touch. Her body thrilled at the anticipation of joining with his again. Already, her juices flowed in her and she knew that the day was only beginning. 

So she straddled him. 

"Chakotay…" 

Her tone was husky, commanding. 

"You were wrong. It's when we make love the third time." 

No answer from him except that she felt his acknowledgement. Without opening his eyes, he gripped her hips and Kathryn let him lower her, keeping her folds open and ready. She gave a long moan of pleasure as she sank down onto him. 

"I know…" the words expelled at last from his lips. 

They rode the second storm, harder, faster than the first; it curled ferociously, swung into a maddening vortex where their eyes remained for a moment hidden, a secret, mystical place where time became another element, merging with the forces that surrounded them - wind, fire, water...earth... He gripped her hips, lifted her off him so that just the tip of his shaft rested inside her, before he brought her down on him with such force that she screamed out every time she braced her knees against him and helped him in his quest to find the all-encompassing merging. 

Chakotay's face twisted as he pulled her down on him, screaming with her so that there was no difference between who cried out or what they cried. Their screaming merged with the thousand wails of the tornado, then became lost in the storm. Chakotay filled her, burned a shocking trail into her as he arched and pulled her down on him. Her head was thrown far back, breasts bouncing as she rocked. The room spun in a maelstrom about her. Kathryn felt the moment Chakotay spilled again hotly into her; it was the moment she too, spilled and screamed his name. His nails dug into her skin, but she didn’t feel it as their muscles clenched and all her breath was knocked from her as they rose high off the floor before the cyclone screeched in long, keening animal-like howls before it collapsed. There burst upon them a bright, sparkling sky, as if they journeyed through a wormhole and suddenly reached the end of it to view a world of bright colours and wonder; a mix of pinks and peach and orange with blues and greens and violet. For interminable seconds they were caught in a timeless expanse where they floated effortlessly in their newfound freedom. 

Somewhere, somewhere, Kathryn heard the cry of the eagle… 

The eagle flew out of the storm, a wild flapping of its magnificent wingspan. It landed, wings unfurled and when the storm was no more, she closed her wings, gently furling them back, and she bowed her head. 

Long, long minutes later, after Kathryn had collapsed on Chakotay, her body still joined to his, he held her very close to him and spoke again. 

"I love you, Kathryn Janeway…" 

Then Chakotay wept. 

*** 

Kathryn stirred slightly as she shifted to make herself more comfortable against Chakotay. She gave a contented sigh. Their lovemaking had continued through the day. This morning in his lounge, when he took her without much ceremony, he had not bothered to undress; he hadn't taken time to push his trousers over his hips. 

"I have never made love with my boots on," he had said with a quirky smile this afternoon when they took a breather to eat. 

"I've never had a man make love to me with his boots on," came her equally quirky reply. 

"How long was it, Kathryn?" he asked her quietly, the guilt at his initial rough lovemaking a flash that crossed his handsome face. 

"I wanted it to be like that, Chakotay. Believe me, I wanted it...You didn't hurt me, you know. I feel...rejuvenated." 

"How long?" he asked again. 

"Ten years." 

Chakotay's eyes closed. 

"Thank you." 

"Why?" 

"For waiting." 

"I wanted the right man, Chakotay. You are that man." 

They had eaten their meal in silence after that. Chakotay had showered, and his hair was still damp. He had a slight limp, but he shrugged it off when he lifted her in his arms again and carried her to his bed. 

He had done that this morning too, when they were spent from that first storm and the need to join with her again, only temporarily suspended, hardly noticing the burn marks on her back as he lifted her high in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. Then he took his time as she lay on the bed, her legs apart, waiting for him, watching every move he made. He removed his clothes very slowly, smiling with a predator's smile as she smouldered and writhed under his gaze. One item after the other he shed his clothes, and when he was completely naked, he stood there, bronzed, a god. 

And, he was gloriously erect again. 

"Love me," she whispered. 

When he lay beside her on the bed, he studied her body, his hands tracing patterns over her breasts, dropping little kisses on her nipples and lapping her salty skin with his tongue dipping into her navel. The sensation was so erotic that she cried for him to hurry. 

"Shhh..." 

She writhed as he licked at her, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips until she caught it and started sucking. Chakotay groaned when she did that, but he didn't release her where his mouth touched her centre. Twice he spilled his seed into her, but his mouth there was a prayer, a final admission that she was his and he was hers. She gasped, her breathing uneven as he nipped at her folds, tantalising her clit into erect readiness. She spilled into him, her hands on his back and her fingers scoring deep long scratches as she arched cried out when she crashed over the edge. 

Only then he slid his body over hers, her centre throbbing wildly, ready and moist. In one swift move her body accepted him again and Chakotay cupped the sides of her head while he moved lazily in her. He watched her, sometimes smiling, at others his own face contorting in mindless ecstasy as she lost control and gave herself to him. Kathryn's mewling sounds that later careened into a long keening howl as her body was unable to stop from rocking and arching and writhing, incensed him more and he thrust strongly in her. It had been so good feeling his thickness, the way his shaft slid in, pulled out and slid in again. A heady sensation overpowered her again, her body weak and pliant and utterly at his mercy. 

She gasped open-mouthed against his neck as her orgasm tore through her body. 

He stayed in her, prolonging his erection by such magnificent control so that she could enjoy him moving slowly in her. When she came down, he stared into her face. 

"You are so beautiful, Kathryn Janeway," he murmured. 

Then she wept. 

* 

It was dark in the room; Chakotay was still sleeping. His own tiredness had only hit him about an hour ago when he couldn't keep the sleep at bay any longer. Now, the tangled sheets and their entwined legs were the only reminders that the day which had started with so much anxiety and dread on Chakotay's part, ended in their passionate lovemaking. 

She needed him, needed to find expression of her feeling in the stormy way they did this morning, and the sweetly touching way of later when he worshipped her body properly, literally kissing every centimetre of her skin. Each touch had been so erotic that only seconds after her thumb had been in his mouth, or he had kissed her ankles, or the area just beneath her earlobes, she would position herself for him to enter her again and thrust in her until he was spent. There were times, after one of their numerous showers, she had slid down to her knees, and coaxed his soft member into a painful arousal again before taking him fully into her mouth. He'd hold her head close to him and push gently into her. When he was spent, he'd pull her up and kiss his wetness on her mouth, groaning all the time he tasted himself on her. Then he'd lift her up and impale her all the way down on him because he got hard again. She clutched at him then and rode with him until both were so tired that they only barely managed to get to the bed again. 

They slept in spurts, and now, Kathryn, awake, watched Chakotay as he lay sleeping, his face peaceful, so relaxed. Her mouth curved into a gentle smile. They were strangers no more… They had a few more hours before he had to meet with his superiors, and she wanted to delay so badly the moment, wanting to keep him with her and love him all over again. They had to talk about so many things still. So many things…. 

Quietly, carefully, she extricated herself from him, taking one of the sheets and wrapping it about her. She padded to the easy chair that faced the window with its view of the Bay, and sat down on the edge of the armrest, staring out into the distance and the stars that lit up the horizon. 

*** 

He knew he would always marvel at the way Kathryn Janeway could remain still, yet give the impression that she was moving or that her mind was turning over events, recent or further into the past. Moonlight softened the glow about the room and Kathryn's face was in silhouette, half relief. She had been sitting in the same position for the last half an hour, without so much as making a major shift to ease the discomfort that he knew sitting for long periods like that on the edge of the chair had to be. 

She held the sheet about her in a caress, he thought, and even from where he lay watching her as she stared out pensively over the Bay, he could sense the animation of her face, an expression of her thoughts. 

Perhaps she was a quiet sleeper too. He'd soon find that out when she came to bed later. It wasn't late; the night was still young for the late sundowners, or a late meal, perhaps. Even making love again. 

But they were spent. The day which had begun with the thrilling anticipation of Kathryn running into his arms at the transporter site of Headquarters and which threatened so sorely to derail him, had ended. They had made furious love, and Kathryn had been the most generous giver of her body for him. She held nothing back. Even now, thinking of the way she had been so giving, so liberated, he thought that it was possible that Kathryn had not been like that for another man. It gave him the sweetest satisfaction, the most tender memories that for him, she had been the wild, wanton Kat, the sweet seductress, the huntress stalking her elusive prey, the soft, mewling kitten in his arms. 

He had known sex. He had known lovemaking. Always, he had been in control, even with Caroline Meissner. Always, there had remained a part of him that was enigmatic and secret when he had made love with Caroline. With others there had been only the sharing of bodies and the lustful exchange of fluids without the giving of the heart or the mind. Always, he could walk away without feeling the need to recreate what he just took. With Caroline there was something which he had mistakenly thought then was the real thing. Hindsight did not always have positive and welcome benefits. 

The realisation was all the more painful because only now, with Kathryn, Chakotay experienced the real difference, a blinding truth that there was a difference after all. He had been so utterly convinced then that Caroline was everything. 

Now he knew the truth. 

Kathryn Janeway, petit, incredibly strong, independent, sassy, intuitive, generous and compassionate came into his life and became that difference. 

He experienced with her extreme Joy. 

He experienced for the first time in his life, peace. 

He has never had that, and when Kathryn had lain beneath him, or when he had lain beneath her, his mind had connected with hers. It was a permanent sharing, a completion he knew he would never, as long as he existed in this life and after, have again. 

It was a knowledge brilliantly searing in its significance. 

In the morning, when it was light, they would examine one another's bodies and give little cries of pleasure and pain because they each bore the tantalising scars of today's lovemaking. In the morning, they could talk of the future and delay for a little longer, his going to Headquarters for his debriefing of their six month journey and his new post. In the morning, he could tell her he'd be Dr Paris's patient for the next few months. Yes, everything could wait for the morning, for the morning held a promise of time and of patience and of the anticipation of a long life together. 

But now, Kathryn needed assurance. She needed him to give her that assurance. 

So, Chakotay rose quietly from the bed, undeterred by his nakedness as he walked towards her. He touched her cheek in a tender caress as she turned her face to him. He held her shoulders gently and drew her up so that she could stand in his embrace. He pressed his lips in her hair, her long hair that throughout the day he could never keep his hands off it. Silken strands had twirled around his fingers and he had inhaled again its maddening smell of apples, or brandy or flowers… She made no sound, but nuzzled her nose against his chest. 

Then he held her away from him. 

"You loved him," he said quietly. 

She tried to look away, but his fingers coaxed her chin gently so that she could face him. There was a deep sadness in her eyes and almost, almost, Chakotay felt he should stop pursuing something that hurt Kathryn still. He had known from the moment Kathryn called him, that never would she be another Caroline. When Kathryn had lain with him today, he had known she would be his ultimate destiny, and she would be true to him. 

"Kathryn?" 

"I - I loved him, Chakotay. For a long time I thought I would never give myself to another man - " 

"Or experience great passion?" he asked. 

She remained quiet for a few seconds. He knew that was not what was her concern. It was possible for a person to be given the rare honour of loving deeply a second time, and Kathryn loved him with all her heart. That he knew. 

She nodded, smiled gently at his arrogance. 

"What is it then, Kathryn?" 

She looked away again, and when she turned to him, there were tears in her eyes. 

"I don't want to lose you…" she whispered. 

Justin and her father had died in tragic circumstances, a painful, traumatic experience for her. For ten years she had not wanted to give her heart to anyone, and now she loved another man and she was afraid of losing again. 

He gave a soft sigh and cupped her cheeks, pressing his lips gently against hers. 

"I can't promise not to die, sweet Kathryn…" he said soberly. 

"I know. I'm ready now…" 

"For what?" 

"To walk with you, forever." 

He pulled her gently in his embrace again, standing like that for long, long minutes. 

"Do you know what Grey Eagle said to me one day?" Chakotay asked at length, breaking the silence. 

Kathryn looked at him. He had promised after she asked, to take her to Grey Eagle. Besides, the old Indian had made that demand himself. 

"What did Grey Eagle say?" 

He was gratified to hear the relieved lilt in her voice again, and see her face light up in a smile. 

"Out of the unknown has often sprung life's greatest gifts." 

She hurled herself against him, holding him so tightly that he gasped. 

"I love you, Chakotay." 

"I love you too, Kathryn Janeway, for all eternity. My life belongs to you now. All of it." 

****  
CONCLUSION OF BOOK ONE: BEGINNINGS  
TBC  
BOOK TWO: TEARS [CHAPTER NINE]


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn and Chakotay go about their business of being a couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 is the start of BOOK TWO: TEARS which will continue through to Chapter 18. For today I'll also post two chapters.

BOOK TWO: TEARS  
CHAPTER NINE

 

It was summer, and his leg had to ache. On the morning he had to see Dr Paris, his leg had to ache. What was it about injuries that the body seemed to remember them although they happened months ago? He had been just fine the last month, and his work at the Academy had gone better than expected. There was no pain then, and Kathryn had seen to it that he kept to his therapy of massaging and exercising. His bones had knitted well, and he hoped that Dr Paris didn't need to break his leg like Sergei has had to do on one or two occasions, and reset the hardy fragments that still did not align well. He had not needed his walking stick for a few weeks and Kathryn had been glad that he was able to get about without stumbling or limping. 

The humid weather didn't help either and he was already sweating, his uniform clinging to him. He fidgeted a little, sticking his finger at the top of his collar and pulling it down. His neck itched and the little scratching relieved it somewhat. It was just after breakfast and he'd only managed toast and some juice. Kathryn had looked at him accusingly, but he wasn't going to budge. He didn't feel hungry and the pending visit to Starfleet Medical loomed too large on his mind. Kathryn had relented eventually after her unsuccessful attempts at fattening him up. He couldn't quite understand how she could exist some mornings on coffee alone and in the same breath insist he should keep a healthy diet. In the first week they hardly ate. 

That first week…

They were just discovering one another and their first morning together he had woken up with Kathryn staring down at him. She'd braced herself on her elbow, her eyes damnably teasing when she said, "You snore." 

Now a month has passed and Kathryn remained worried about his leg, especially after this morning early. 

"I'm fine, Kathryn. I'm not hungry." He'd leaned over to touch her hand. "Really. Don't worry..." 

"Then at least, drink some juice or coffee..." 

"I told you I'm not hungry right now."

He could have gone to the hospital on his empty stomach and get the visit over and done with. But Kathryn, dear, sweet, loving Kathryn was not finished. 

"So you're going to teach the rest of the day and be miserable because you're hungry." 

He had given a sigh. Kathryn's eyes had held a spark in them that meant he wasn't going to get anything past her. He'd taken half a glass of juice and one slice of toast and practically forced it down without Kathryn noting how he disliked doing it. When he finished, he looked at her. 

"Are you going to Paris this afternoon?" he asked.

She'd put off going to her own apartment which she was in the process of selling. They had spent one weekend in Paris and visited Marseilles at the same time. She wanted to be with him and it was convenient being based near Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy. Before, it hadn't mattered to her where she was based. 

"But my priorities are changing, Chakotay," she said one afternoon when he returned home from morning classes. He hadn't put any pressure on her and was glad that she had made that decision herself. Besides, she could always use her parents' apartment. 

"I'll be back tomorrow, Chakotay," she smiled, her concern that he hadn't eaten sufficiently supplanted by having to be away from him. 

"I'll be waiting," he replied, his eyes warm as they rested on her. She was dressed in a maroon tunic and pants, and the past few weeks he had seen her only once in uniform when she had to attend a meeting with her commanding officer and the Admirals of their division. Her hair hanged loose about her face, and for a moment he had the urge to run his fingers through it. He couldn't get enough of the feel of her glorious hair, especially when they made love, or in those quiet moments when they lay in bed and just held one another close. 

They had been together only a month, but it felt to him he still couldn't get used to being without her. He experienced a sense of panic when she left to visit her friend Dalene, or met with Admiral Paris or, travelled to Paris to air her own apartment. After that first day when they made love endlessly, she had been everything, a perfect partner, lover, friend and companion. Their nights were heady as they groped at each other, their appetite sharpened because they were apart for one whole day. Chakotay felt the heat spread through him, delicious curls of desire at the thought of how passionate their nights were. 

The day following their arrival home he had gone to the debriefing with Roger Petranoff and Sergei Karkoff, and it was only when he returned to his apartment that Kathryn informed him of her conversation with Admirals Paris and Ponsonby. 

"They want me to take a new commission, Kathryn?" 

"Yes, you know there's war looming and Cardassia is committing atrocities on homeworlds that they subjugate - " 

He had known about the Crimond's mission to Bajor, and Kathryn had told him some of the details of their mission. He hadn't wanted to know too much, considering the nature of their relationship now. He realised that knowledge of it could be used as weapons against the Federation. It had happened before; it's not unlikely that it would never happen again. Still, he valued what he and Kathryn shared. Yes, about Cardassia he had known, didn't like them - or more specifically their methods of persuasion - to begin with. He too, had heard stories that had filtered to them even while they were stationed in the Gamma Quadrant for six months. 

"I know. But I'm not accepting, Kathryn. There are others suitable to go undercover for them. They already have a group like that - " 

Kathryn had given him a brilliant smile. 

"I told them you wouldn't accept, Chakotay." 

"They were using you to get to me, to soften me up, Kathryn." 

"Am I the villain in the piece?" 

"Oh, no, you're the love of my life." 

"We've been together only two days and already I am the love of - " 

"Kathryn, honey, I've known you six months! I know what I feel." 

"Well, that's good. I'm glad you're going to turn it down. I know it sounds selfish, but I can have you to myself for six weeks, at least. You would have been gone a year, you know..." she said the last words slowly, so that the implication of it was not lost on Chakotay. 

"I would not have been responsible for my actions after twelve more months of starvation," he had said firmly, remembering how he had taken her so roughly on the floor of the lounge. He proceeded to kiss her. She melted instantly into him and he had given a groan as his arousal pressed against stomach. 

They had tumbled on the bed and for the next hour had made passionate love until, spent, he said quietly: 

"I need you, Kathryn..." 

Chakotay had been staring out the window that overlooked the Bay. He had gone to see Admirals Paris and Ponsonby the day after his debriefing and had been resolute when he turned down the commission. He wanted to be home, he wanted to heal and he wanted Kathryn. After their tempestuous lovemaking, now, more than ever, he needed Kathryn and she needed him. His intention to be based at here had been two-fold. He enjoyed working with the senior cadets and young command track officers. Kathryn had been home for a month of her six-week stay. They would be going to Indiana next weekend so that he could meet her mother. "Amongst other things..." Kathryn had whispered seductively against his ear; a gesture so erotic he had gotten hard just at the thought of the other things they would do. The weekend following that, his promised visit to Grey Eagle. Kathryn hadn't asked him yet about his father… 

When he felt a pair of arms encircling his waist, he sighed and pulled Kathryn round so that she could stand in his embrace with her fingers laced behind his back. He dropped a light kiss on her hair before she looked up at him. Her blue-grey eyes looked a little darker, a sign either of pending passionate kisses or her concern. Right now, it was concern. And, he knew exactly what she was going to say. 

"You're tense, Chakotay," she murmured, "and your leg is aching." 

He kissed her, marvelling again at how her lips became soft and alive under his. 

"You know." 

"I know you, my love. It's been like that since the early hours of this morning." 

He had gotten out of bed at 0400 to sit in the lounge. He hadn't wanted to take any of the painkillers Sergei had given him, and allowed the pain to eat into him. He nodded his assent, unable to hide the truth from her. She had sensed it anyway. She hadn't joined him in the lounge then, knowing that he wanted to be alone. When he returned to bed, she had simply crawled back into his arms and held him close to her. She didn't say anything and made no reference to his injury. He sighed and before he knew it, had fallen into a restless slumber in which he dreamed she was leaving him. 

Now, when he looked into her expressive eyes, he saw the worry in them, also the determination. Kathryn Janeway didn't have to pout her way into his heart. All that was needed was the look of determination in her eyes. That always got him. 

"I'm going with you, Chakotay." 

He bristled. He hadn't wanted her to be with. He didn't need... 

"I know you're going to say you don't need a watchdog, honey, but I do want reassurances." 

She read his mind. She'd been doing that since the first time they made love, attuned to his needs, his emotions. He frowned as a wave of pain hit his lower leg. Kathryn, instantly on the alert, walked with him slowly to the couch and he sat down heavily. His upper lip showed fine beads of perspiration. 

"I'm sorry, Kathryn. Of course I want you to hold my hand - " 

"And see that you get there." 

"Yeah, that too," he sighed. 

"Come, our transport has arrived. Ready?" she asked as he heaved up from the couch. He took the walking stick that had been perched against the armrest and walked gingerly after Kathryn. When they were seated in the flitter, he breathed a sigh of relief that he could get his weight off his leg. Kathryn squeezed his arm reassuringly and he managed a smile as he looked at her. 

**** 

Commander Chakotay conformed. That's what Doctor Elizabeth Paris thought as he lay on the biobed. His entire body was tense as if he were fighting against her. If it hadn't been for Kathryn Janeway who stood next to the biobed with her hands on her hips, Chakotay would probably have walked out of the surgery before she could do any work on him. Kathryn's whole stance challenged him to get up from the bed before she had completed the surgical procedure. Earlier Elizabeth had to sedate him and she wondered idly how he would take to taking a course of painkillers for at least the next two days. Elizabeth had been studying his medical file and Sergei Karkoff had not been complimentary about the way Commander Chakotay shied away from medication. 

She smiled inwardly. If it hadn't been for Kathryn Janeway... More than six months ago she, Elizabeth, predicted that the Commander would eat happily out of Kathryn's hands and lo and behold: the man conformed. He was no different than her dear Owen, or Adam Ponsonby who couldn't keep his eyes off Gretchen Janeway. But Dr Paris was concerned. Commander Chakotay was retarding his own progress by being bull-headed about his recovery. 

At the first instant she had seen that he hadn't liked anyone helping him. The way he had dropped Kathryn's hand under his elbow as they entered the surgery, spoke volumes. His injury was no more serious than the most serious cases than she had worked with, but the problem lay in the healing process, and that it was taking longer than Sergei Karkoff anticipated. It was fortuitous perhaps that Commander Chakotay would be based at Headquarters for at least another five months without the risk of shipboard accidents or injuries incurred on away missions. Being here, and with Kathryn keeping an eye on him, a better climate would be created for him to get super fit again. 

Dr. Paris studied the information on the computer screen, then looked at the patient on the bed. 

"Commander Chakotay, I see no reason why you cannot have a complete recovery by December." 

"He'll have something to celebrate on his birthday then, Dr. Paris," Kathryn offered, raising an eyebrow when Chakotay glowered at her. He heaved himself to a sitting position. 

"Thank you, Doctor." 

"That must have been some accident, Commander," she said as she walked to the bed again and removed the scanner from the medical tricorder and scanned his leg again. 

"I fell down an old mine shaft. It was nothing - " 

"Chakotay!" Kathryn's consternation was clear in her voice. "A boulder fell on you..." 

"As I said, Doctor, it was nothing." Chakotay pursed his lips as he got off the bed and put his weight down on his foot. 

"I studied Dr Karkoff's reports, Commander. I'll not repeat what he said when I contacted him yesterday." 

"He could take my bone fragments and make a good soup?" 

"That's about it." Doctor Paris smiled, her light brown eyes sparkling. Chakotay had a sense of humour. She was going to like him. She already liked him. But Kathryn Janeway had not stood hands on her hips for nothing. Those same hands were at her sides, hanging a little loosely. 

"Chakotay..." Kathryn chided gently, not wanting to ire him more than he already sounded. Chakotay hated being dependant, hated being helped when he thought he didn't need any and when everyone else thought he could use a supporting hand. 

"When do I report again, Doctor?" he asked curtly. Elizabeth Paris was unfazed by Chakotay's behaviour. She refused to be offended when she could see this was not the manner in which the ever courteous Commander behaved normally. Her frame of reference was the extremely gentlemanly manner in which he had treated Kathryn the night of the concert. When Kathryn gave Chakotay a pained look, he relented, relaxed even. "I need to rearrange my teaching schedule," he said in a more placid tone. 

"In a month, Commander." Elizabeth Paris replied. Commander Chakotay reminded her of her husband, the stubborn Admiral. Kathryn did manage to keep Chakotay in check. "But I must warn you not to overextend yourself on that leg. Give it time, and time will heal it. All the bones have knitted well. The rest depends on you now, Commander." 

"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate what you've done. My behaviour was boorish. I apologise - " 

"No need to, Commander. You're certainly not the first patient who doesn't want to be doctored, nor will you be the last." 

"Doctor Paris," Kathryn said, "we'll be back." 

"Oh, I'm quite sure Kathryn will see that I get here, Doctor," Chakotay added a little acidly, but took the sting out of his words with a smile that showed his deep dimples. "I'll not be using this anymore," he said as he touched the walking stick. The women both sighed with relief. Kathryn gave him a quick hug. 

Elizabeth Paris tidied her workplace, put away instruments and then held a phial of painkillers to Chakotay. She knew he was going to refuse, but it was better that he had the option of taking them in the privacy of his home.. She had to cut some of the bone fragments again and regenerate new tissue to fuse them properly into place. While Chakotay experienced no pain currently, when he had come in, leaning heavily on Kathryn, his face had been creased from the pain, although he tried desperately to control it. 

"I suggest you take this, Commander - " 

"Please, Doctor Paris. Call me Chakotay." 

"Fine, Chakotay. These are painkillers..." Elizabeth paused as she saw the flash of displeasure on his face. "It's only to tide you over the next two days." 

She breathed a sigh of relief when Chakotay capitulated and took the small phial from her. Kathryn had given his arm a reassuring squeeze. Elizabeth was amazed at how close Kathryn and Chakotay were. She and Owen - as indeed did Gretchen and others close to the two lovers - had conjectured mostly at how close they had become. Now, the evidence was before her. It was clear that Chakotay loved his Kathryn to distraction. The way his eyes lit up every time he looked at her, or how he would touch Kathryn as if he needed to feel her constantly close to him, was enough to tell her that Chakotay and Kathryn had become inseparable. 

Chakotay had taken his attention very briefly from Kathryn to look at Elizabeth. When he smiled, Elizabeth wondered whether Kathryn Janeway would ever tire of the onslaught on her heart. If it hadn't been for her own dear Owen… 

"Doctor, thank you. I'll keep this." 

"You're welcome." 

Elizabeth Paris stared thoughtfully at the doors of the surgery long after Chakotay and Kathryn left. 

*** 

Indiana at this time of the year always held the most appeal for Phoebe Janeway. It was fall, or the beginnings of it, signalling the end of the long summer and prospect of winter nights that she could sit on the deep piled rug in front of the fireplace and create images for new paintings. Or, she'd just go through a creative surge like she was doing now. Her studio was on the upper level of their home - when she was home - and overlooked a small copse of oaks. She always marvelled at they way the leaves could create a palette of colours: various shades of green, yellows, golden browns. Strange, she found not the green leaves full of life, but the golden leaves, just before they lost their grip on the boughs and floated to the ground; some looked like they were suspended in the air, unwilling to make the journey down. There they joined the other golden leaves that had formed a carpet under the tree. Phoebe imagined them crackling as she stepped on them. 

Just before they died, they looked their most beautiful. 

Yes, this was the time she liked, and her canvas invariably expressed the mood and always, she filled in the picture with human movement. Her painting held two figures walking in the distance, silhouettes against the sun. They held hands, and although they were mere impressions in harmony with their surroundings, it was clear that there was a deep bond between them. 

Phoebe smiled. Even if she had to succumb to a lack of modesty, it was a good painting. She had caught Kathryn and Chakotay exactly as she hoped. Their heads were close; they were whispering words of love. Their hands did not touch, although the appearance of touch was there. They had been standing under a large oak, and as if on cue, they moved away from the shade into the sun. 

They were gone now, but she had been overjoyed at Kathryn's obvious happiness, so palpable that she felt a stab of pain, a certain resentment that Phoebe knew instinctively, she has never experienced quite with the same intensity, and one she desired to have. That was the effect Chakotay and Kathryn's visit to Indiana had on her and on their mother. 

Phoebe remembered how ten years ago she had pulled Kathryn back from the brink of devastation and depression after Justin died. Kathryn had, months later, been strong enough to tell Phoebe: 

"You did the right thing. I was slowly wasting away..." 

"Because we cared, Kathryn. For no other reason. You could not go on mourning in the way you did forever..." 

Kathryn had nodded and given Phoebe a warm hug. 

Now Phoebe's thoughts were with them again, remembered them as they were sitting under the tree. 

"It's good to see them like that, isn't it?" Gretchen had told Phoebe as they watched Kathryn and Chakotay sitting under a tree about fifty metres away from the house. 

"I thought I'd never see Kathryn happy again, Mother. It's so beautiful to see, it's downright scary!" 

"Don't think of it that way. Chakotay is the medicine Kathryn need - " 

"Mother! You make Chakotay sound like an elixir!" 

"Well, she needed to be made whole again, Phoebe. Kathryn..." Gretchen Janeway sighed. Phoebe looked at her mother, noted the faraway look in her mother's eyes. "Kathryn was never the same again after Justin, you know. There was always something that was missing - an elusive element that Kathryn required to come to life again. Men have tried, Phoebe. Mark has tired. It's always in the eyes. Kathryn's love emanates from her, from her eyes especially. It's impossible to run away from it, or to hide it, except to acknowledge it. Chakotay has done what I dreamed would happen for Kathryn the last number of years...." 

"Besides, Chakotay is a handsome devil," Phoebe said, looking wistfully at the two lovers. 

"He certainly is. But Kathryn loves him for more than that, Phoebe..." 

Phoebe ignored the slight censure in her mother's voice, the dig at her second daughter's own refusal to commit to a man. 

"I know. He is very intense at times, but when he smiles, his face relaxes. Then I can see how Kathryn's eyes also light up, although she tries to hide it." 

"That man will want to give Kathryn the earth; he'll walk by her side even if she's going to be headstrong that she doesn't need his protection. He's just going to give it." 

"Yes, Mother..." 

Gretchen Janeway had looked at her younger daughter, her eyes narrowing in a long, penetrating gaze. 

"What?" Phoebe asked, a frown on her face. 

"When am I going to meet her, Phoebe?" 

Phoebe sighed. Since their childhood days, she and Kathryn could never hide anything from their mother. Once, Kathryn told her: "With Mom, resistance is futile. She knows us too well, Phoebe." So Phoebe matched her mother's gaze and nodded. Perhaps in a few months' time, she'd bring Rodea home. Not now...Not now that she wanted her mother to enjoy the new found happiness of her eldest daughter. Kathryn needed and deserved their exclusive attention. When Phoebe was ready, Rodea would come… 

"Maybe at Christmas, Mother..." 

They had retired to their rooms and Phoebe had started on her painting, the painting standing on the easel now, complete. When they visited again, she'd give it as a gift. Phoebe smiled again as she thought of her conversation with Chakotay Sunday morning. He had been sitting on the porch enjoying the early morning sun that warmed the floor boards. She sat down next to him on the swing seat, and waited a few minutes before she opened her mouth. 

"If you hurt her, Chakotay, you're a dead man." 

"If I should ever hurt Kathryn, I would not deserve to live, Phoebe." 

*** 

As long as she lived, Kathryn would have a picture of Grey Eagle as he sat perched on a tree stump, carving away patiently at whatever shape his subject was going to take. They had arrived a few minutes ago and the first words the old Indian said was: 

"You take away my sun, Cha-ko-tay." 

She had glanced quickly at Chakotay and saw with relief that Chakotay was not offended. It was clear to her that there was a rare bond between Chakotay and Grey Eagle and for a fleeting instant she wondered how Chakotay had lost such a precious connection with his own father. He had been touchy on the subject of his father, though on one or two occasions she had seen how pensive Chakotay looked when his father had crept up inadvertently in conversation between them. She had a feeling that Chakotay missed his family and that whatever the reason for the breach between them, Chakotay was too proud to initiate a conciliation. The Federation database was sketchy, naming only a father and mother. His mother she could only presume, was still alive. Perhaps, when she sensed that he would be comfortable to talk, she could ask that they go to Dorvan V together. She wanted to meet his family, particularly his mother and father. But, she sighed, that eventuality was still a way off. 

"She is beautiful, Cha-ko-tay." Grey Eagle did not look up from his work as he spoke the words. 

Kathryn smiled as Chakotay squeezed her hand. 

"She is, Grey Eagle." 

"But that is not why you love Kathryn Janeway." 

"No." 

Kathryn did not feel any offence at being talked about in the third person, and before she could say something, Grey Eagle looked her straight in the eyes. It was such a sudden, piercing, direct look that she felt mildly uneasy, and her gaze fell before his. 

"You love Cha-ko-tay." 

There was the strange inflection again when he said Chakotay's name. She found it charming, so in keeping with his personality. How could she answer him, or even deny his words? Her hands were clasped together, clenching then relaxing again. 

"Yes, Grey Eagle." 

Only then she returned his gaze and Kathryn experienced that fleeting regret again that it wasn't Chakotay's father speaking these words. The words were so heartfelt and touching, expressed with such complete faith that her eyes welled up. 

"You have been hurt much, Cha-ko-tay and Kathryn Janeway." 

She looked quickly at Chakotay, then at the old man again. There was no asking or queries as to his knowledge of their hurt, just a simple acceptance that he sensed it with his great understanding, his wisdom that seemed to have been with him since the day he was born. 

"We travel a new road together, Grey Eagle," Chakotay said. 

Grey Eagle nodded gravely. "That may be so." 

They watched in silence as Grey Eagle polished the little carving. They had been so drawn to his presence and the way in which his words drifted to them like pearls of wisdom that they hardly noticed that he had completed his sculpture. Kathryn gave a soft gasp and Chakotay's hand reached for hers. Grey Eagle looked at last up from his work, stared with piercing blue eyes at them. 

"That may be so," he repeated. "Here…" He held the sculpture and both of them reached for it. The action elicited a grin from Grey Eagle. His eyes narrowed as he waited for their reaction. 

Kathryn held the sculpture on the palm of her hand and gasped again. She looked at Chakotay whose eyes were deep pools of mystery as he too understood. 

On Kathryn's palm lay the sculpture of two eagles with wings spread full out, and only the tips of their wings were joined. The way in which Kathryn balanced the eagles attested to its fragility, as if in a breath, a slight change in wind direction, the joining tips would break. 

"You are to take great care of this gift, Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway. It will break if you do not care for it with love…" 

**** 

They were back in Chakotay's apartment and Kathryn stirred lazily in his arms late Sunday evening. Sated after making love she lay in his arms, his even breathing vibrating as her face pressed into his chest. Her thumb grazed his chest hair idly and once, when she pulled a hair, he just moaned, and pressed her closer. She had given a little smile. 

She was about to leave on her next mission and in two days she'd be on the Crimond in Sector 339, near the Obanite Star Cluster. Now, she enjoyed the precious time she had with Chakotay before her departure. Her body still tingled after their lovemaking, but he was tired, although his leg had not given him any trouble. She was relieved about that. Chakotay had been frustrated the first two days after his visit to Starfleet Medical. The pain got him in the middle of the night, when he moaned in his sleep. She had managed after great coaxing to get him to take the painkillers Elizabeth Paris prescribed. 

She had been not a little disconcerted by Grey Eagle's gift to them. A chill entered her body when they had come home last night and she had put the eagles which she had already dubbed "Twin Eagles" on the mantelpiece where they joined "Grey Eagle" as a newcomer to their collection of memories. She had been ultra careful when she handled it, and Chakotay had been reassuring that the twins were tougher than she thought. 

"They'll survive, Kathryn," he stated, his voice firm, bearing not a trace of hesitance. 

"And if it breaks?" she asked. 

"Well, then, Kathryn, we'll just walk through another baptism of fire, won't we?" 

Their visit to Indiana had been better than expected. Phoebe happened to be home for once and it was great to see the interaction between Chakotay and her sister. Phoebe had repeated her promise to Chakotay, saying if he ever hurt her, Chakotay would be a dead man. 

"He would never do anything to hurt me, Phoebe," she told her sister. 

"I know. You're very sure of him, you trust him with your life. That more than counts for anything." 

"Thanks, Phoebe. Don't worry so!" 

"Hey, who said I'm worried? I'm only protecting my older sister - " 

"Not you, too. I don't need protection." 

"Katie..." 

"I'm over that time in my life, Phoebe. Chakotay... he's everything..." 

Phoebe had nodded and had given her a tight hug before they left in the shuttle for Headquarters. 

Kathryn was glad to be back. Chakotay's apartment had become their home. All her personal effects were here now. She belonged here, with him. One day perhaps, she'd base herself at Headquarters and be with him all the time. That is, if he continued to teach at the Academy. He had already been approached to teach History and Anthropology. 

"You should take it, Chakotay," she suggested. 

Kathryn wriggled her hips closer to Chakotay and smiled inwardly when he responded by pressing her closer to him again. Chakotay had almost blown a fuse that day. 

"Are you mad, Kathryn? There's a whole galaxy out there to be explored, the whole Delta Quadrant that no one knows what's there. It's where I want to be, Kathryn!" 

"But Chakotay - " 

"No debate, Kathryn. It's six months here, and then I'm on my own vessel, hopefully..." 

She had known that he wanted to command his own ship, just as she had wanted to command her own vessel. But they still had to navigate a minefield of cross-communication, of settling into some kind of routine where one would be stationary while the other explored. Everything was still so new to them, but she knew that his home was now hers too. 

That was as good as knowing home was here Chakotay was, where her heart was. 

She woke from her reverie with a start when Chakotay stirred and opened his eyes. 

"Maybe one day, Kathryn, I'll come back and teach again," he murmured, then kissed the top of her head. 

"Were you reading my thoughts, Chakotay?" she asked, raising herself on her elbow, surprised that he was awake. 

"I know you, Kathryn. I could feel your smile against my skin..." 

He turned himself so that he could face her, drawing her into his embrace. He groaned, and she could feel his arousal. Her hands stole under the cover and she curled her fingers around his shaft. 

"We'll sort things out, okay?" he said as her fingers rubbed him and he writhed beneath her touch. 

She stopped her action suddenly as she noted how sober his eyes looked, like he was about to make a vow. 

"Chakotay…?" 

"I swear by God, I'll never hurt you, Kathryn..." 

****  
TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adding chapter ten as well. I'll be very busy this weekend and won't be posting until Sunday, maybe.

BOOK TWO: TEARS

CHAPTER TEN 

The five small vessels moved slowly into position, four of them surrounding the fifth in a cross shape.

"Detroit, wait for my signal."

"I'm on it, Commander," responded Freyne Detroit.

"Shields up!" Chakotay commanded. He had an open communication to the other four vessels, all type six super shuttles made for maneuverability in battle. His raised the shields of the Nagasaki, while the shuttles fore, portside and starboard side of the shuttle at the heart of the cross did the same. 

"Telemetry!" he shouted again. "Detroit, lower your shields. Now!" 

"Commander, they're closing in at fifty thousand kilometres!" responded Freyne Detroit as he complied to Chakotay's order. Freyne was at the controls of the Endeavour, in the middle of the cross. 

"Keino, Pryce, Karan, report!" 

"Shields up, Commander," Kipchoge Keino called from the Orion. 

"We're ready," replied Pryce and Karan simultaneously. 

Chakotay literally bristled with anticipation as he watched the three Doran vessels approach. Large and often regarded as clumsy in maneuvering, they were the heavy battle-cruisers of that race. The Dorans were highly predisposed to battle and approaching Doran space had placed the five shuttles at the risk of attack. But now, Chakotay thought, he had a major ace up his sleeve for the Dorans. They were looking for a fight and a fight was what they were going to get. 

"Let's see them eat dust, Detroit. You've never seen the likes of what were going to do now," Chakotay said, positioned as he was, aft of the Endeavour, Freyne Detroit's shuttle. "They don't know what these little beauties can do, right, Cadets?" 

"Right, sir!" 

"Freyne, you know what to do. In about twenty three seconds those three vessels will be in firing range. On my mark, you'll eject the plasma." 

"Right on, sir! They're approaching fast!" 

They watched the three Doran vessels approach, and on his viewscreen, Chakotay grimaced at how threatening they looked. They might be battle cruisers, but they weren't fast. His men had the edge, he hoped. Somewhere in his throat he could feel the throbbing of a pulse, feel the rush of adrenaline. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He heard a signal, and seconds later a face appeared on his viewscreen. 

"Federation vessels, this is Kor Seden, of the Doran Military Council. Stand down. We'll crush you." 

"Not in this millennium. I suggest you stand down your weapons, Seden. We requested safe passage." 

"Which we will not give you. You are in Doran Space. There is no thoroughfare." 

Chakotay pressed his lips. His patience was running out. The Dorans had already decimated the entire fleet of their neighbouring planet. 

"If it's a fight you want, Seden, you'll get it." 

The first phaser blasts hit the Acnadia, Karan's shuttle. 

"Shields down fifty percent!" 

"Keep going, and fire!" 

Chakotay opened fire; Karan fired from the Acnadia, followed by phaser fire from both Keino and Pryce. In the middle Freyne Detroit waited patiently for Chakotay's signal. 

"Shields down sixty percent, Commander," Keino shouted, his voice sounding tense. 

"Freyne, on my mark, release the plasma. I have a transporter lock on you." 

In a second Freyne Detroit appeared on the small bridge of the Nagasaki. In the same instant the three Doran vessels fired on the hapless Endeavour as it released its plasma; the three shuttles jumped into warp, disappearing off the screens of the lead Doran vessel. The Endeavour exploded into a cloud of fire. 

"Now, let's see what you can do, lead ship…" Chakotay whispered dangerously, his eyes gleaming. He had one photon torpedo and he was ready to let it fly. 

"They're sitting targets, Commander," Freyne Detroit whispered as he watched his own shuttle break up into debris. 

Chakotay fired. The torpedo aimed noiselessly for the lead ship and in the next instant, the lead Doran vessel was hit, a ball of fire following the explosion of the ship. 

"Keino, Pryce, Karan, jump into warp 9 instantly, on my mark - Four…three…two…one… Now!" 

As if the three shuttles just cloaked in the darkness like Klingon vessels, they vanished from sight. For a few critical seconds the commanders of the two remaining Doran ships wondered where the shuttles had vanished to. Chakotay watched the ships, no longer so threatening as minutes before. His hands gripped the controls tightly as the Dorans opened a visual. 

"You have made an enemy!" shouted the other two as they opened fire on Chakotay's shuttle. Freyne took over the conn while Chakotay fired at the two vessels. 

"Come on, guys, make your appearance...now!" Chakotay whispered as he silently beckoned the shuttles to return. In the next instant they appeared aft of the two Doran vessels. It was clear the helmsmen of the enemy vessels did not anticipate the shuttles appearing at their rear. The Acnadia, Orion and Pendennis maneuvered port, starboard and aft while Chakotay in the Nagasaki faced the Doran warships. 

In a few breathtaking seconds, four shuttles fired furiously on the two enemy ships. In a cross formation around them, the Dorans were sitting targets. 

"Fire at will!" 

*** 

They were back on solid ground and Chakotay looked with satisfaction at the four men who made the battle a success. 

"That was good going, guys." 

Kipchoge Keino, an African descendant from the ancient Watusi tribe - at two metres he had to be the tallest cadet at the Academy - simply nodded. He remained unsmiling, detached, reminding Chakotay of the Vulcans. He wondered idly if Kip Keino didn't have some Vulcan blood in him. Enslin Pryce and Tor Karan, a Bajoran, smiled broadly, acknowledging Chakotay's praise. 

"I should tell Tom about this, Commander," Detroit piped up. Freyne Detroit had sandy hair and he looked like a rock lobster most of the time. The sun was his enemy, Chakotay thought. Sergei had the same colouring but not to the same devastating effects it must have on Freyne. Befreckled, the young lieutenant had a certain boyishness about him, but it was deceptive. At the helm of a starship or shuttle, he was a wizard. 

"Tom's stationed at Caldik Prime, Commander," Freyne added the piece of information. 

The sun was high, and Chakotay shielded his eyes as he surveyed the four remaining shuttles. They would collect the debris of the Endeavour later. Then he looked at Freyne again. 

"And...? 

"He's the best pilot on Earth - if you'll forgive the pun." 

Chakotay laughed at Freyne's words. "Tom, you said? Tom Paris?" 

"Aye, Commander. He's the son of - " 

"Yes, I know. Admiral Paris." Chakotay frowned heavily. Kathryn mentioned that Tom was not on speaking terms with his father. 

"That's the one, Commander," Freyne replied. "We grew up together - " 

"And no doubt, got into scrapes together." 

"Aye. Those were good days, Commander. Good days when Tom - " Freyne paused, saw the others were looking at him. Chakotay nodded. There must have been a time when Tom Paris was still very much a boy, with boyish outlooks and boyish wishes and desires. That Tom wasn't stationed closer to home spoke volumes. 

"Well, cadets, Lieutenant Detroit, the mission was a success. You'll get a good report when we return to Headquarters." 

"Will we ever get to do this again. Commander?" Tor Karan asked. A Bajoran, Tor Karan was one of the few privileged to have escaped the drudgery of slave labour on his homeworld and made it to the Academy. There was something lurking in him, though. Chakotay knew that his mother had become a slave mistress of one of the Cardassian Guls. Tor's question held an element of alarm for Chakotay. The kid had a mission. He was a damned good pilot, though, one of the cream of the fourth year cadets. To hear Freyne Detroit, however, that designation must surely belong to his friend Tom Paris. He couldn't quack enough about his friend Tom. 

Chakotay sighed. The Epileng Cross Maneuver was now finally accredited to him. The question remained: will they use it again? 

"Who knows?" he replied. "As long as there's always the element of surprise, I'd say we'll use the Epileng Cross Maneuver again." 

"Yikes! Commander, however do you think these maneuvers up?" Karan asked. 

"He's head of Tactical, dummy. Commander Chakotay is supposed to do it," replied Enslin Pryce. 

Keino remained dour although Chakotay knew he was the most astute of the three cadets. He indexed every maneuver, turned over in his head every tactical trick and advantage Chakotay taught them. Of the three cadets, Kipchoge Keino was the real dark horse. 

"Come on, guys, let's go," Freyne Detroit said to them. "Okay, Commander?" 

Pleased that the mission and maneuver had gone according to plan, and pleased with all the random parameters he had entered, Chakotay breathed a sigh of relief and said: 

"Computer, end simulation." 

**** 

Chakotay was bone tired and deeply pensive when he left the Academy buildings on his way home that afternoon. The consultations with senior staff, the day's simulations, and working with senior cadets had exhausted him. It had been exhilarating taking them through the Epileng Cross Maneuver, but the constant thinking on his feet, strategising while in mid-thought so to speak, left him slightly dizzy, so he kept shaking his head trying to dispel that feeling, but the tiredness had seeped into his bones. All he wanted to do, was to get home, soak in a tub like Kathryn just loves doing all the time, and lie in bed next to her. 

Kathryn... 

He hadn't slept much in the last few days; he had been sleeping with his eyes open, so to speak, to listen for the slightest disturbance in Kathryn's breathing, or the first sign that she woke up distressed from a dream she'd had. She had done that two nights in a row and he had taken her to the lounge where he sat with her, his arms wrapped around her, but never talking. Just holding Kathryn. An hour later he would walk her back to their bedroom and make sure she was sleeping peacefully before finally closing his eyes and losing himself in the half-sleep, half-awake state of lying and being constantly on his guard. 

He wanted to hurry and wished that he could be at Kathryn's side in a blink. She had been discharged from hospital days ago and this morning when he left home she had been preoccupied. He didn't want to intrude, knowing how she could shut him out at times, though not deliberately as she always shared her feelings with him later. She still hadn't said much or shared much, and it left him a little frustrated. He knew, had been advised to exercise the utmost patience, but it got to him that the Kathryn who normally spoke her mind and loved to communicate openly with him, became quiet. 

Now he hoped she'd be ready to talk. She hadn't done much of that in the last few days and he could kick himself that she had been on her way to Earth, in fact, in Earth's orbit when it happened; he hadn't been right there when she needed him in the first moments the pain hit her, or when it had been so severe that she had cried out his name. That information Dr Paris had given him later when it was over. Kathryn had been transported directly to Starfleet Medical where Elizabeth Paris received her patient. He had rushed from the Academy building, cancelling his classes for the day to be at Kathryn's side. He hadn't had a pain in his leg for months, virtually running all the way to the hospital. 

Chakotay closed his eyes at the sight that met him in the hospital ward. He had been standing at the door, frozen for a few seconds with fear before he rushed to her side. 

"Kathryn! Oh, God, Kathryn..." he moaned as he saw her pale face on the biobed with Elizabeth Paris watching the monitors carefully. He had been shocked. Kathryn's eyes were sunken, deep pools of emptiness. No tears. That's what he noted idly. Kathryn didn't cry. Her lips were dry and her voice, when she spoke, sounded desolate. 

"It's over, Chakotay..." 

"Oh, Kathryn..." 

He wanted to touch her face, but she turned away from him, and he guessed that she must have thought she had disappointed him or failed him. They had been so happy...ecstatic. 

"There'll be another baby, Kathryn," he soothed as he lifted her into his embrace. 

Kathryn felt warm, but she shivered uncontrollably and he had wondered how such a strong woman as Kathryn Janeway could be so vulnerable in those moments, so bleak at not being able to control or prevent the loss she experienced. He knew his words sounded feeble, without substance, too soon for her to hear such promises. She was only just grieving the loss of their son. 

Their son... 

Something had given in him then, a feeling that kept on swelling until his chest felt like bursting. He had given a few dry, racking sobs as he held Kathryn close to him. Elizabeth Paris had remained in the background, moving about quietly as she monitored Kathryn's recovery. When he lay Kathryn gently back against the headrest, she had not wanted him to let go of her hand. It was the only visible sign that she felt anything, that she needed him. He stayed with her until she fell into a restless sleep, and remained with her through the night. She had been depleted of her strength when her foetus was expelled and needed to rest. In the morning he had taken her home. 

He couldn't understand quite fully that Kathryn hadn't at first wanted them to inform him. She thought that she would be alright, that she'd not lose the baby. That much she was prepared to tell him. By the time he made it to Starfleet Medical, it had been over. Everything happened so quickly that both he and Kathryn had been shell-shocked in those first hours after he reached her side. It had been painful for her, very traumatic, the miscarriage something she hadn't imagined could happen to her. It never entered their minds that she could lose the baby. 

Sometime during the evening while Kathryn was still sleeping, Elizabeth Paris had drawn him aside. Kathryn's fingers curled round his; she still wanted to be connected to him even in her state of sedation. 

"Commander, Kathryn is very healthy," Dr Paris whispered. "It may sound like a cliché, but there is no reason why she can't have more children. She is very healthy - " 

He thought how ironic that sounded. But his mother used to say to his father: "I'm pregnant, not ill, Kolopak". That was something Svetlana had been telling Sergei all the time. And Svetlana... Soon after their return she had given birth to a baby girl. Kathryn had been over the moon when they had asked her to be Irina's godmother. Chakotay eyed the doctor, his stance a little sceptical. 

"But she lost the first child now, Doctor. Isn't there a risk?" he asked. Elizabeth Paris regarded him with her clear light brown eyes. 

"Even in this age some women can't prevent a miscarriage of their first pregnancy, Commander. It happens frequently. Thereafter..." Dr Paris paused, her eyes getting a pensive look in them. "Thereafter, the body adapts, you know. Right now, Kathryn's body may not have been able to adapt to all the cataclysmic changes taking place in it..." 

"She was very quiet, Doctor. She hasn't said much yet - " 

"She's only just lost her baby, you know! But I know you'll get her through this period, Chakotay. She needs you with her right now, even if she's going to react in ways contrary to her nature..." 

"What do you mean, Doctor?" 

"Well, and you can take this from me: she may vent on you. You must understand it." 

He had nodded to the doctor and gone back to Kathryn and held her small hand in his again. She only stirred in her sleep and gave a deep, dry sob before she became restful again. His free hand had gone to her hair and caressed it, smoothing the damp tresses away from her face. She was slightly feverish and once during the night his heart wanted to break when her hand had gone to her belly and she had given a few sobs.. 

She had wanted the baby. 

He had wanted the baby. 

He had wanted it so badly. 

"It's going to be a boy," she breathed happily while still on the Crimond and communicating via subspace with him three weeks ago. Only a week before that she had informed him, her face breaking into a happy smile. She had already been pregnant six weeks, and only when she went for her monthly medical, had she been informed. She had been pleased. Surprised and pleased, had stalled knowing about the sex of the child at first until her incurable curiosity had gotten the better of her. 

"Oh?" 

"Yes, I wanted to know. He'll look like you, of course, so I'll pretend I'm very happy that our son will have none of my attractive features - " 

"Really?" he interrupted her, feeling like he wanted to take a cigar, grip it between his teeth and smile broadly at the same time. 

"Yes. He'll have my eyes of course, but I don't mind him having your dimples…" She had a faraway look in her eyes as she dreamed about their son, to be born somewhere near her own birthday. He had been so proud. 

Then Kathryn seemed to wake from her reverie. 

"Chakotay..." He had seen how serious her face was just before she had to sign off. 

"What is it, Kathryn?" he had asked, frowning and his heart suddenly aflutter. Was something wrong? 

"Our - our son. I - " She got a shuttered look and in an instant he had known what her dilemma was. 

He had given her his broadest smile and at the same time his own heart wanted to burst with happiness and pride. Why hadn't he asked before? Why indeed? 

"Kathryn, on my birthday in three weeks' time, will you marry me? You will make me the happiest man in the universe. It will be the best gift of my life..." 

Kathryn, who didn't cry much, wiped away the tears that trickled down her cheek. Her eyes shone. 

"I will be the happiest woman in the universe, Chakotay. I love you..." 

* 

Chakotay shook his head again when he realised he was standing at his front door. He had been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed the distance, or the short ride to his apartment. He gave a soft sigh as he opened the door. 

It was quiet inside and once he moved from the small foyer into the lounge, his eyes were expectant, hungry. Kathryn was not there. 

"Kathryn?" he called. 

He walked into the small study just off the lounge and gave a sigh of relief when he saw her sitting at the vidcom. The relief vanished as quickly as it came to him when she didn't look up from her work. 

"Kathryn…" His voice was low, filled with entreaty. 

"Hmmm?" 

She continued studying what he noticed was pointless data. She didn't want to look at him. He bent down and covered her hand, stop if from moving over the panels of the vidcom. Her hand stilled. Then she looked at him. Her eyes were strangely cold, not like it had been this morning when she had just that preoccupied look. What had happened during the day? He hadn't been able to call her, he had been so busy… 

"Please, sweetheart, we have to talk about this," he said softly as he pulled her to her feet, gratified that she actually came with as he walked with her to the lounge. 

He noticed idly little Grey Eagle perched on the mock mantelpiece, the sand painting he painted of her when he - how did he intuitively know then it was Kathryn when he had not laid eyes on her? - was still considering taking her to the concert. "Kathryn" as he called the painting now, took pride of place over the mantelpiece. Twin Eagles perched on a tiny limb he had picked up while they were still in Mexico. These things they had collected, things that cemented their happiness, symbolised their love, had joined other little things objects their house, becoming no longer Chakotay's apartment, but Kathryn and Chakotay's home. 

When he pulled Kathryn gently round so that she could face him, the belligerent glare was still there. His heart sank. Dr Paris had warned him Kathryn would fight him, and now Kathryn looked ready to do battle. 

"There's nothing to say, Chakotay. I lost the baby you wanted - " 

He had to urge to shout at her, but kept his cool. 

"Correction, sweetheart. We lost the baby we wanted. We…" he stressed. 

Kathryn pulled out of his grasp, swung round to stand at window. Unlike at other times, the beauty of the scenery had no impact on him. So Chakotay walked to her and turned her so that he could look in her eyes. Kathryn looked beautiful - angry and hurt and beautiful. Her golden hair had been drawn into a ponytail which she favoured on some days, and his resolve almost crumbled. He had to remind himself forcibly that Kathryn needed to talk, that giving in now would delay the process of her grieving, allowing it to simmer in her. 

Almost, he wanted to preserve the peace. Almost. Her fiery eyes and beautiful hair had to wait for him to drown himself in them. 

He wanted to draw her into his arms, but she resisted. 

"Leave me alone, Chakotay." 

He pulled her to him, held her so that she had to look in his eyes. Kathryn glared at him. 

"Leave…me…alone…" she hissed angrily. 

"We gave our baby a name, Kathryn. We wanted him to have identity early on. Remember?" he asked, and only then Kathryn's face became stricken. She wanted to pull out of his arms, but he held on to her, for once glad that he was stronger and not feeling guilty about using his superior physical strength. "What was his name, Kathryn?" 

Her lips trembled, and when she could control herself, she looked resolute again. 

"He's dead, Chakotay. You hear me? Dead…" 

"But in our hearts he's there. It's not gone, Kathryn." 

"N-no. I wanted him..." she stammered. "There's nothing now..." 

"Oh, Kathryn..." he murmured, feeling how the tears burned behind his own eyelids. 

Then Kathryn broke free in a violent movement which she followed up by pounding his chest furiously with her fists. Chakotay remained standing, hands at his sides, letting Kathryn hit him. He didn't flinch, didn't attempt to stop her. Every blow she landed was punctuated by a deep gasp. "He's dead...dead..." she screamed at him. Still Kathryn continued to hit him until at length, the blows slowed down, lost their power; eventually she collapsed against him, gasping and wheezing painfully. Only then Chakotay enfolded her in his arms, holding her close and caressing her head, dropping a soft kiss there. The fight had left her. 

"He's dead, Chakotay," she whispered tremulously. He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face. 

"I know, sweetheart. But we gave him a name, remember? He had identity, as surely as if he had been right here with us." 

Kathryn gave a dry sob, frowning as her lips trembled. 

"I c-can't…" 

"Of course, you can. Please, you haven't said anything. You need to acknowledge him - " 

"J-Jaime…" 

Chakotay gave a deep sigh. 

"I love you, Kathryn, with or without our son," he whispered hoarsely. "We'll have other children. They'll never take the place of Jaime, understand? Never. Jaime would have been our first born. It cannot change. But he isn't with us anymore, honey…" Chakotay spoke softly, in tones that soothed. offered solace to Kathryn's battered heart and spirit. He watched how the first tear rolled, and the second, and the next. Still he continued. "And when our daughter will be born, she will know one day that there had been a Jaime who would have been her older brother. She will know that her parents could not prevent what happened. She will know one day that no one could be blamed, that sometimes things happen in our lives that are completely outside our control…" 

Kathryn's restraint finally broke. The tears that had been absent so long spilled from her. Chakotay knew that she felt guilty, that she punished herself for thinking that she was weak, that she felt she had failed him. He had taken those feelings, absorbed them and placed them in perspective. Kathryn hurled herself against him and sobbed brokenly. His arms were ready to receive her again as he held her protectively in his embrace. All the while Kathryn wept, Chakotay was unable to withhold his own tears. They cried for a son they lost; they cried for what might have been. 

It was a very long time later that Kathryn stopped crying. There was still an occasional shudder as a sob racked her body. 

"Shhh…" he soothed as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He let her down gently and she lay down on the bed, crawling into his arms when he joined her a second later. Her body felt warm and soft, almost feverish. "It's okay, Kathryn. Everything will be alright... I'm here, by your side..." 

Did he imagine that she smiled again against his neck as she had done before? His own body became still as Kathryn relaxed and he closed his eyes. Even so, his hand was in her hair, loosening the ponytail from its restraint. Like that he lay, his fingers caressing her long tresses. Kathryn's breathing became even and he gave a sigh of contentment. She had finally faced her trauma, had spoken about it. There was more, but he was patient. A good start had been made. When Kathryn was ready, which he knew would be soon, she would open to him again and talk as she had done before, always with the complete trust that he would treasure her sharing. 

Had they fallen asleep? Chakotay only realised that when Kathryn shook him gently. He was disoriented for a few seconds. He had been tired, had lost too much sleep since Kathryn's miscarriage. Kathryn sat down next to him on the bed. The light was at full illumination, and the room was warm. He had forgotten how cold it was coming home from the Academy. He noticed absently that Kathryn had thrown a light cover over him. She was smiling, her mouth in a gentle upward curve. 

"W-what time is it?" he asked, still groggy from sleep. Kathryn's palm caressed his cheek. She kissed him lightly, then sat back. 

"You've been asleep for five hours, Chakotay. It's 2300." 

"That late, huh." 

"Well, you arrived home tired to the bone, then you looked after me..." Kathryn's voice faltered over her last words, but he could see how resolute she was. "You looked after me, then we fell asleep." 

"You cried..." He sat up, but did not touch her. Kathryn nodded, her eyes clearer now than it had been the early morning when she brooded over her loss. 

"Chakotay...I - " 

"I was hard on you, Kathryn. Forgive me - " 

It seemed that she hadn't heard his apology, or she simply didn't take notice of it. Instead, she continued. "I - I felt inadequate. For a whole while it was as if I couldn't believe it myself that it happened to me, Chakotay..." He wanted to say something, offer her solace again, but she put her fingers against his lips. "It's not that easy to say, you know." There was a long pause, and he waited, watching her she struggled to compose herself, how she swallowed at the lump in her throat. "One moment...one moment he was there, and the next..." She was still again. "Anyway, I felt I failed you, that I disappointed you..." Chakotay nodded when she said that. He had already surmised that, but it was good that she was saying it herself. She had had a cathartic experience earlier, and now she was clearly better able to place what happened in perspective. "I wanted so badly to please you - " 

"Kathryn..." he groaned. Her hand went up again. She gave a crooked little smile when she spoke again. 

"Then I thought - stupidly so - that you wouldn't want a woman who was flawed..." 

"Spirits, Kathryn!" 

"Yes. Like being half a person, or something. Strong, together Kathryn Janeway who couldn't hold a foetus..." 

The derision in her voice stumped him 

"I am deeply sorry, honey..." 

Kathryn's smile widened, spread to her eyes. 

"If it weren't for you. I - I love you, you know. More than I can say, but this - this just threw me off balance." 

"I'd say you were allowed to. It doesn't make you weak, honey, nor inadequate. Just human..." 

"Just...human," she repeated softly. 

Only then Chakotay touched her by drawing her into his embrace. He felt her shudder, and seconds later she sat back again. 

"I - I thought... I was afraid you wouldn't want to - to -" 

He gripped her shoulders, started deeply into her eyes. 

"Kathryn Janeway, the day after tomorrow, when it's my birthday, will you marry me? Please?" 

"Oh, Chakotay!" she cried, the tears spilling from her again as she threw herself in his arms. 

** 

So it was that on Chakotay's birthday, the eleventh of December 2369, Admiral Owen Paris joined Kathryn and Chakotay in marriage. Present was only Kathryn's mother Gretchen, her sister Phoebe, Sergei Karkoff and Svetlana with their children Irina and Anatoly, who shared a birthday with Chakotay. They made the trip to San Francisco to witness the happy occasion. Dalene had made her excuses, saying: 

"Kathryn, sweetie, you'll never know who walked into my life!" 

"Let me guess: Andreas Buccholtz?" 

"He told me: 'I come as a package, Dalene Petranoff. Will it be okay?'" 

"Naturally, you said yes!" 

"Naturally! His daughters are lovely, Kathryn. They - they like me..." 

"I'm happy for you, Dalene." 

Still, Kathryn had felt a mild twinge of regret that her friend who had been instrumental in bringing her and Chakotay together, could not share in the joyous occasion. 

As was the custom between Chakotay and Anatoly, Chakotay presented the seven year old boy with his gift, and Chakotay received his with a smile and an apology. 

"I can't come to your party this year, squirt, but I'm glad you came to my wedding." 

"That's okay, Uncle Chakotay," Anatoly smiled, "I knew you will never forget. Now we will celebrate two birthdays and a wedding!" 

Chakotay laughed and mussed the boy's hair; Kathryn Janeway-Chakotay's eyes became soft as she watched the interaction between the boy and her husband. She gave a small wistful sigh, then concentrated on the others. They had been wished and hugged, feted and berated. 

"Now Chakotay, now that you have my daughter, you will keep her happy. That's an order." 

It was Gretchen Janeway who delivered those forceful words and all Chakotay could say was: 

"Aye, ma'am..." 

Only one person whom Kathryn would have liked to be there too, was Mark Johnson, who had met Chakotay several times in the last months, and who had been impressed by the tall Native American's quiet strength. He did send Chakotay a leather-bound, gold embossed copy of the collected poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Kathryn received from Mark a copy of Jane Austen's "Persuasion". Kathryn had not been too unhappy that Mark could not be present, her own happiness at finally, a year after she had met Chakotay for the first time, marrying the man of her dreams. 

Because Kathryn was still recovering from her miscarriage and advised to intimacy only after a few weeks, Chakotay had been perfect. They had lain together in their bed, Kathryn snugly fitting in the crook of his arm and nuzzling her nose in his neck. He had whispered how much he loved her, and although she was in dress uniform for her wedding, she looked extremely beautiful. He had gasped and struggled to breathe when she came in to stand next to him in the small chapel at Headquarters. 

She whispered again how much she needed him and clung to him in desperation for several minutes. Both remembered the child they lost, but both knew that one day, their union would be blessed with another baby. 

"It will be a girl," he whispered to her earlier. 

"You're very certain of that, Chakotay," Kathryn said, unable to keep the mirth from overflowing. Her eyes shone, she was happy and her delicious little moans when nestling in her husband's arms, told him how happy she was with him. 

Later, much later, Chakotay had risen from the bed and walked to his dresser. He smiled inwardly when he looked at all Kathryn's personal items lying there. It was no longer his. In his drawer, the bottom one - Kathryn claimed to top one for her - he took out a tiny box. 

Kathryn had been sitting up in bed by the time he walked back. She was curious. 

"I - I wanted you to have this, as my wedding gift to you, sweetheart," he said quietly. 

Kathryn pushed her hair behind her ear and then took the box from him. When she opened it, she gave a soft gasp. Slowly, she lifted the gold locket from the box, its fine chain dangling from her fingers. 

"It's beautiful," she exclaimed when she saw the intricate drawing of an eagle on its shiny surface. 

"Open it," he said softly. 

When Kathryn looked at him, her eyes were filled with tears. 

"I thought it would be a memory, Kathryn, of past and present," he whispered. 

She nodded, and held the open locket to him so that both of them could look at the inside. 

On the left, was a little heart with the name "Jaime", and on the right, another heart with the name Hannah written on it. Kathryn looked at him, a query in her eyes, though not to its intent, but the source. 

"It is my mother's name..." 

She nodded and held the chain to him. She turned so that he could fasten it. For this night at least, Kathryn Janeway-Chakotay was going to sleep with her children around her: one who had no chance at life, and one who would one day fill her heart again. 

"I love you, Chakotay," she said quietly, her words issuing from her lips like a vow. 

*** 

Grey Eagle put down his sculpture and rose from his seat. The day was dreary, and the sky filled with grey clouds. It was not the clouds, or the sudden breeze that sprang up, or the icy cold that made him draw his blanket tighter around him. 

In the sky, hanging just below the grey clouds, he saw the eagle, majestic in flight as she dipped and hovered. Then another eagle had joined her; together they danced in the air, in perfect harmony. 

Even though the sun did not shine, Grey Eagle still shielded his eyes as he watched the magnificent birds fly towards the hills in the distance. 

Did they not see the vultures who followed them as they ventured into the unknown? 

*** 

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the planet Dorvan... This will feature in the next number of chapters.

* * *

**BOOK TWO: TEARS**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**February 2370 - DORVAN V**

The planet Dorvan was the fifth planet of the Dorvan Star System and it lay on the perimeter of Federation Space, close to the Cardassian border. An M-class planet with a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, it was chosen by a tribe of Native Americans as an ideal habitat to settle after traveling the heavens in search of a new home. Unhappy on Earth, and witnessing the gradual disintegration of their cultural identity, their vision was to find a place where they could rekindle their heritage and pass it on to their sons and daughters. So, on the southern continent of Dorvan they settled and for more than a hundred years lived in harmony, where the sun, the sky, the earth, moon and water and wind, the chaparral and silver trees and fire bushes became one with the people, and the people found in the planet the compelling spiritual connection they had yearned for for so long.

Untroubled by other races, they existed in peace and harmony, the planet's resources sufficient for their self-preservation. They cultivated the land and grew the Earth's crops like corn and wheat. Many of the plants that formed part of Dorvan's natural vegetation had medicinal properties and so they used what the planet yielded to cure themselves the natural way rather than use modern medical technology.

Dorvan's declination to the sun was such that it enjoyed two main seasons - dry, hot and humid in summer and a milder, more temperate climate for winter. The streets were narrow, and the houses flat-roofed with red slates, the walls whitewashed and relieved by shuttered windows. Men and women wore the clothing adorned with beads and feathers reminiscent of the tribes of the late nineteenth century Earth.

At this hour there were not many people walking along the dusty road, but those who did, stared with open curiosity at the two people who walked the street in the opposite direction. Although it was still morning, the sun was high and scorching and the two visitors, dressed in more sedate clothing, were not any less comfortable than the inhabitants of the village.

Kathryn Janeway thought how much like Earth this planet was. The white-washed houses appealed to her. They exuded an air of tranquillity, defying notions that inside them might be hostility, or arguments. Kathryn couldn't imagine a single note of discord striking here. The tribe had really chosen their planet well, she thought. A place where they could express their beliefs and live their culture in the way befitting them, with traditions they could pass on to their children.

This was what struck Kathryn as she walked next to Chakotay on their way to his parents' home. Of all the people she had seen in the streets, she had seen very few young people here. Chakotay himself had been only fifteen when he left this world to enter the Academy. Did other young people here have the same urge to explore the heavens? Did they find their culture and belief systems an albatross their parents foisted on them? She found it difficult to imagine how any person could leave this place whose beauty appealed so much to the senses, the sensual, the peace of mind, the tranquil and, most importantly, the spiritual.

It was, Kathryn thought, an idyll. A hot, dry world most of the time, but with enough water for sustainability, an ideal place to raise one's children. Probably.

There could not be a ripple of discontent, not unless she counted Chakotay's teenage rebellion when he left to join Starfleet. Now they were here to meet his parents. No, she corrected herself with a shrug. She was here to meet his parents. Kolopak and Hannah, and his two brothers and sister who had chosen to remain on Dorvan.

She wondered what his father looked like. She had virtually twisted Chakotay's arm to bring her here to meet Kolopak. Chakotay hadn't wanted to come. She knew he was very disdainful of his people's returning to their roots, so to speak. They shunned most forms of technology, and Chakotay had balked against that when he had been young. He had wanted to explore; he had sat outside under the silver tree and dreamed of travelling the heavens.

Kathryn sighed. Chakotay was at times so bull-headed, and it had taken some intense diplomacy to agree to bring her here.

She had threatened to come herself. That in itself would not have been a problem, but it would have been so much better if the commitment had come from her husband. Then his intent would have been noted and appreciated. That he did finally make the decision to come… She sighed.

She had not been a little surprised that he still kept a house on Dorvan, something he had apparently acquired in year after he graduated or thereabouts. Chakotay had given an embarrassed coughed the day he told her that. She hadn't wanted to laugh at him or gloat; she knew he'd take it out on her later that night by sleeping on the couch and withhold his favours from her. Not that he had done much of that, anyway. If he decided to sleep on the couch all by himself, how come he was so happy when he woke in the morning with her in his arms? In the middle of the night she'd sneak into the lounge, crawl in next to him and it had been worth every heated word just to hear him moan with contentment when he felt her body so close to his. Most of their arguments which had started as careful discussion on her part and ended in such heated vituperation from both, had been about seeing his father. In the morning when he woke with her in his arms, he had been remorseful and apologetic. She couldn't help it. She had herself not had a very good relationship with her father, and his entry in her life had come late. Although she cherished what she did finally have with Edward Janeway, it still did not make up for the heartache and emptiness she had as a child dreaming he'd come to her performance or prize-giving. Family meant so much to her. It meant a lot to her that Chakotay kept contact with his family and that was why in the last two months since their marriage in fact, she had not stopped encouraging him to talk about his father in particular. She smiled again inwardly. That he kept a house here had been such a surprise. A welcome surprise but more than that, a revealing one.

Kathryn had known then - was it only a week ago? - that Chakotay secretly yearned to see his people again, to be with his family and to make peace with his father. Only, he had been too proud to say it. She sensed it anyway, and that's why she couldn't laugh about it, or shrug it off with humorous comments.

She told him then that she'd be happy making love with him in their home on Dorvan.

Chakotay had not given a reply, but she had simply kissed him after seeing the grateful look in his eyes.

Nothing was said between them.

Now they were walking along this road. In two weeks she had to be on her vessel again and he on the Ormskirk. He had his old commission back and juggling their time together had been exciting, an adventure. Sometime around her birthday they'd both he home for almost three months. She gave a sigh. She had wanted to start for a baby almost immediately, and Chakotay had been glad at the time. Now, two months later, there was still nothing. Her hand stole to her breast, where her fingers curled around the locket he had given her on their wedding night. They would have a girl baby. He was so convinced it would be a girl. Chakotay had been right about Jaime too, when he asked her the first time why she even bothered to ask the doctor when he could tell her it was going to be a boy. It was such an endearing streak in Chakotay. He had an implacability about him, an utter confidence that he was right about things. Their next baby would be a girl. That was, whenever Hannah decided to make it known she was there…

"We're almost there, Kathryn," Chakotay said, his voice almost intrusive into her meandering if it hadn't been so calm. He took her hand and together they walked on.

"Where is your own place, Chakotay?" Kathryn asked, then frowned as she saw how the passers-by looked at her. She had been so preoccupied that she noticed their stares only now. Chakotay saw her frown as she looked around her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.

"You tend to stand out here, sweetheart. It's your bronze hair and blue-grey eyes, your colouring…"

"Oh…"

"Then you should also know that you are viewed with keen interest, Kathryn."

"Because I'm your wife?"

"Well..." Chakotay gave a cough, not certain how to put it to her, but Kathryn already sensed.

"You left your roots, rejected your people's cultural identity, and taking a wife who - who is...er...not Native American would seem a slap in the face?"

Kathryn said the words without rancour, stating it as a simple fact. When Chakotay nodded, she smiled.

"Your father, I'm sure, Chakotay, is a good man..."

She heard him sigh, and before she could speak again, he said:

"We're here..."

They approached the house, painted white with the familiar red slates Kathryn had seen on all the houses. On the door there was a design, an intricate pattern that she presumed was an art form favoured by the tribe. Chakotay looked at her again, and held her hand, squeezing it gently. Kathryn sensed the slight unease, a hesitance Chakotay didn't normally have. Was he afraid? she wondered. His hand felt clammy suddenly and trembled slightly.

The door opened before Chakotay's hand reached for the handle and a man appeared in the doorway.

"Cha-ko-tay..."

He did not have the long hair like the men Kathryn had passed in the street. It was short, just below his ears, and there were tinges of grey in the black strands. His eyes were dark brown, gazing directly at Chakotay. It was a friendly face and Kathryn's assessment of "good man" shot into her mind in that instant. His mouth was drawn in a smile, making the dimples in his cheeks more pronounced.

Chakotay would age like this man, Kathryn Janeway thought as she looked at Kolopak, who for a few heartbreaking seconds couldn't keep his eyes off his son. His eldest son. There was no doubt in her mind that she was indeed looking at Kolopak. Had Kolopak been thirty years younger, Kathryn would have had a problem distinguishing between Chakotay and his father.

That was not all. Once, very early on in her association with Chakotay he had spoken of his father's tattoo, how Kolopak had taken a rebellious fifteen year old son with him all the way to Earth to search for the Rubber Tree People, and in a ceremony had the remarkable tattoo drawn on his forehead, just above his left eyebrow. It was such a distinctive marking and, Kathryn realised without having given it thought at the time, something some of the men and women she had seen in the street also had. Kolopak had not looked at her yet, but she didn't resent it as his eyes were glued on his eldest son he had not seen in fifteen years.

"Father..." she heard Chakotay say. She turned to look at her husband as he addressed Kolopak. Kathryn saw what she would remember for years to come.

A certain hunger in her husband's eyes.

She couldn't miss it; had read Chakotay correctly before they made the journey here, that he secretly desired to see his family again, especially his father.

What was pride but that it inveigled itself for the most unfounded reasons in Chakotay's heart? His love for his father lay so clearly on the surface, there was not a man within a hundred parsecs of them who wouldn't have noticed it. Chakotay loved his father as deeply as she had loved her own father. It was natural, unvarnished and so…real, that it left an ache deep inside her: an ache and an overriding joy.

It was this same man, Kolopak, of whom Chakotay had always spoken so disdainfully, and dismissed as if he were nothing.

He was Kolopak, her husband's father, her father-in-law.

Kathryn Janeway knew she would love this kind, gentle man for all time.

Kathryn heard in Chakotay's voice the longing, and saw in his eyes the hunger. How could he not, when Kolopak opened his arms to his son, embrace his father? She stood for the time outside of this little circle, this intimate moment between father and son that belonged to them alone and excluded those around them. It was a moment, an image imprinted on her mind, one to be remembered forever.

Somewhere she heard the dictum: boys don't cry, but men do.

It was a moment that was as blessed as it was necessary.

When they broke free at least, Kolopak's hands were still on Chakotay's shoulders. Kathryn thought the look in the older man's eyes to be loving, approving, with tears still glistening on his cheeks.

"Cha-ko-tay..." he breathed again softly, reverently.

"It is good to see you, Father."

Kolopak nodded. Only then he looked at Kathryn.

She felt Chakotay's hand against her back as he urged her forward. When Chakotay looked at her, the pride was unmistakeable in his eyes. She was certain it was not only that he wanted to show her off to his father, but that he was proud of presenting his father to her.

"This is Kathryn, my wife..." said Chakotay.

Kathryn held out her hand and the firmness with which Kolopak clasped hers, Kathryn was taken in by his quiet strength. How could Chakotay not know how much of his father there was in him?

"You are welcome, my daughter..."

Kathryn felt her eyes sting with tears. In the next moment Kolopak drew her into his embrace and hugged her gently.

"Thank you...Father..."

There was no other manner in which Kathryn could address Kolopak but call him 'father'. She dared it; she felt his warmth, his love, everything that was gentle, kind, strong and wise as she would have imagined her own father to be, encompass her and flow through her. She knew that she had come home. Home was being with Chakotay. Home was being in the presence of a great man who asked no questions but accepted her because his son accepted her without question. His son had accepted her long before he even saw her, if truth be told. That was the power of Chakotay's trust in her, and now, Kolopak. Kolopak's face broke into a smile and again Kathryn felt how her heartstrings pulled painfully when he looked at her with Chakotay's honest regard.

The door opened wider and Kolopak walked in. Kathryn had known that the rest of the family had been inside, but had waited respectfully for father and son to unite again. They followed Kolopak into the cool building and in the next instant Chakotay had burst past his father to a woman who had been standing patiently in the middle of the floor. There was just a flurry of movement and a shriek as Chakotay lifted her high in his arms.

"That was a breech baby," Kolopak said conversationally to Kathryn. "He was always so oppositous."

"Chakotay! Put me down."

But Chakotay wasn't finished. He did put his mother down, but hugged her tightly to him. When at length he calmed down, he pulled his mother to where Kathryn was still standing next to Kolopak.

"This is my mother Hannah, Kathryn."

Hannah greeted gravely with a nod, her eyes full of tears. Then suddenly, the small woman hugged Kathryn. Kathryn felt how Hannah trembled, even felt her tears. When Hannah looked at her again, her eyes shone.

"Thank you, Kathryn, for bringing our son home."

All the time Kathryn had been deeply touched by their openness, their simplicity. Hannah was a small woman, but she was tough, Kathryn noted. Her hair was incredibly long, and still pitch black, like Chakotay's. It was Kolopak who drew Kathryn closer into their intimate circle and said: "He is a stubborn mule, Kathryn. We are grateful and very, very happy that you have come here..."

When Kathryn's eyes met Chakotay's, she knew that she had done the right thing, even though it cost sleeping on the couch on a few nights after she had argued with him about visiting his parents. She knew that she had done the right thing just seeing the look on his parents' faces and Chakotay's own tears that was never far from falling.

"Mama," Chakotay asked, "where are the others?"

"We knew you would come," said Hannah, and Kathryn enjoyed the look on Chakotay's face. She had sent them notice they'd be coming, something Chakotay had neglected to do. "They will come. Do not worry, Chakotay," she replied.

A few minutes later they sat down, the cushions on the couch soft and inviting. Kathryn noticed that there were not many signs of technology or its perks here in the house. Once Chakotay had told her that they shunned technology and did not care much for such things. Kathryn touched the locket round her neck, and when Hannah saw the action, her eyes clouded suddenly. She looked at Chakotay, then at Kathryn again. Hannah rose from her seat and came to sit next to Kathryn, touching her bosom gently, her tiny hand just brushing the locket.

"You have lost a baby?" she asked.

"Mama - " it came from Chakotay, who wanted to stop his mother when Kathryn's eyes closed for a second, her fingers still clutching the locket protectively. But Kathryn's eyes flew open again and taking Hannah's hand in hers, she nodded.

"Yes...yes, we were with child..."

Both parents clicked their tongues in sympathy, but Kolopak's next words made Kathryn smile again.

"When you have another baby, it will be a girl."

How like Chakotay he sounded! Or did Chakotay sound like him? Hannah nodded in agreement and Kathryn clutched the locket one last time before releasing it. She didn't want to tell them yet of Chakotay's desires. Maybe at the end of their vacation here, when they were about to leave.

"Please, Kathryn, you must share in our meal," invited Kolopak. Kathryn wondered whether he was also vegetarian like Chakotay, a query which was answered by Kolopak himself when he said, "We live frugally on yield from the land."

"Thank you," she replied and was gratified when Hannah nodded approvingly. Chakotay it seemed, couldn't slake his thirst when he looked at his father and mother. Especially his father. He had done the same with her when she called him that very first time on subspace band and spoke with him. That day he also couldn't keep his eyes off her. They were strangers then. Now, a little more than a year later they were man and wife.

Kathryn had known that Chakotay hadn't had any contact with his parents for years. Loving them the way he did, it was understandable that he imprinted their beloved faces again in his memory.

"How long, Chakotay?" she asked one evening when they sat down to dinner at home.

He had been evasive, not wanting to talk about his father. She had done what she always did when he was in his non-communicative mood where Kolopak was concerned: she held his hand and just idly rubbed the back of it gently. She knew that she had to be patient, even knew that just maybe, he was having a change of heart. Now, with hindsight, she realised that that was exactly what it was. When he had given a sigh and looked at her eventually, he had a sad look about him - a sad, sober look, one that spoke of remorse.

"Fifteen years, Kathryn..."

She had not wanted to give in to her shock, or display outrage. He had left Dorvan when he was fifteen... Before she could even say it, he said:

"M-my father came to live on Earth while I was at the Academy..."

"And, he hated it there," she said, the realisation blinding. Chakotay had given a nod.

"He left again with my mother and sister and brothers when I was in my second year... Sekaya was only ten years old then..."

Kathryn had hugged Chakotay then, almost regretting that she had pried that information from him. But Chakotay released her and met her gaze again.

"I went only once back, in my first year as an Ensign on my first assignment. I was...stupid, Kathryn. It hurt him...it hurt him..."

"What did, Chakotay?"

"That I rubbed it in," he had said quietly.

Now, a hundred times over, looking at the way his mother and father welcomed Chakotay and made her their daughter too, she was glad that she had insisted he come. Fifteen years separated from their son was a long time for loving parents whose only crime against Chakotay was that they loved their land, and desired their own cultural identity. Chakotay was a deeply spiritual man, Kathryn knew. It didn't need Sergei Karkoff to tell her that Chakotay sometimes wandered off to who knows where just to be alone.

To meditate, no doubt. Why was Chakotay ashamed of living his culture so openly as his father did?

When Chakotay's gaze met hers, she saw again the gratitude in his eyes. He was thanking her silently for not giving up on her.

Later that morning, Kathryn met Sekaya, Chakotay's sister and his two younger brothers, Miguel and Kohana. They wore their hair in long braids and Kathryn had a sudden vision of Chakotay wearing his own hair long like his brothers. They were friendly, though strangely, they didn't have the dimples Chakotay and his father had. They resembled more their mother. Mid-morning meal had been an occasion with Chakotay as relaxed as she hadn't seen him in a long time. He belonged on this world, Kathryn realised with a pang. The children had also arrived and one little girl had taken an immediate liking to Chakotay. She had promptly gone and made herself comfortable on his lap, and then she started fingering Kathryn's hair, fascinated no doubt by the deep bronze colour.

"Winonah has always been a little shy," offered Hannah.

"It means your next child will be a girl," Sekaya said.

The four year old child was too preoccupied with her uncle she was seeing for the first time and a new aunt who looked different from them. Kathryn had been a little embarrassed by the directness of the others, but gradually embraced it herself.

The other children - one a young boy about fourteen - look with undisguised fascination at Chakotay. Kathryn sensed what was going on in his mind. The children may have been told of an uncle who was in Starfleet, who would, in a few months command his own vessel. Young Tomaso had the same hunger. He had not stopped asking either her or Chakotay questions about the Academy. His father Kohana looked indulgent, but Kathryn had also spotted the resigned air about him. Sometime soon, young Tomaso would make it to the Academy…

Meanwhile, little Winonah crept on to her lap, and too tired to listen to the adults talking, had fallen asleep. Kathryn felt a warmth growing inside her until it filled her whole being. The child felt warm, cuddly, her pitch black hair cut straight just on her shoulders. Kathryn couldn't resist the urge to stroke Winonah's hair and drop a kiss on her head. The others had given indulgent smiles and sighed as they looked at Kathryn who not only looked at home now, but felt it too.

They all were so much a part of their surroundings. She had not seen this often on other homeworlds. Even on Bajor, when there was such a deeply religious aspect to the Bajorans' daily living, they seemed a little out of synch with their own world. Perhaps it was because of the intrusion of the Cardassians' lifestyle that caused it.

But here, on Dorvan, Kathryn had been more aware how the people were so much part of their world. It was peaceful, and idyll, she thought as she observed the people around her. They had accepted her, made her feel welcome and there had not been a moment that she felt strange, unless she counted her feeling in the street when the people had looked at her.

Later when they had a moment alone, Chakotay said to her: "You like them, Kathryn?" There was an expectant look in his eyes as he waited for her answer.

"I like them, Chakotay. Very much. Your father…I think - I think I love him…" She frowned when she said it, but was gratified when Chakotay smiled tenderly at her and drew her into his arms. "When they're all together, they can be a handful," he said, his voice sounding proud.

"By the end of two weeks I'll know them much better," she placated. Chakotay had given her a beatific smile and she had wanted to eat him up right there. Later in the afternoon they had sat down to a family meal again. The children had gone and only the adults were present. All of them had expressed their joy at seeing Chakotay again and it had been a revelation for Kathryn that Chakotay, despite the fifteen year absence, could interact so naturally with his parents, brothers and sister as if he had never been away. They accepted him into the family fold, and with him, had accepted his wife. It was a humbling experience for her, made all the more poignant when Sekaya said: "You're part of the family, Kathryn…"

Hannah did not use a replicator although Kathryn had seen one in the house. Still, she had never eaten roasted corn on the cob that tasted as good as Hannah had prepared it.

The strangest sight Kathryn witnessed early evening was when she had come from Sekaya's house and saw Chakotay massaging his mother's neck muscles. He gave her a sheepish grin when she entered with Sekaya just behind her.

"Only Chakotay could do that really well," Sekaya explained when Kathryn looked questioningly at them.

She had not wanted to ask what Hannah did in the years Chakotay had been away.

"Mama never quite liked it when I massaged her shoulders, or when Kohana or Miguel or Papa tried," Sekaya answered Kathryn's unspoken question with a smile.

Kathryn's heart swelled with pride. Chakotay looked so happy and for the umpteenth time she was glad that she had been instrumental in bringing him to Dorvan to bond with his family again. He needed it and she? She felt as connected, and mostly it was Kolopak who impacted on her so much. Perhaps it was because she had not had a father for more than ten years. She was drawn to him, called him 'father' like Chakotay did. It had been so natural, and again, Kathryn found it difficult to understand how Chakotay could have rejected his father and by extension, his family. Now, however, the situation was remedied, and a giant stride had been made in the relationship between Chakotay and Kolopak. She still had to learn so much of their culture. So much. It intrigued her.

When she and Chakotay left just after dinner that evening for Chakotay's own house three streets away, he had been quiet. She knew the moment was still too full for him, and that he would take a while to work through his own regret at not having made any overtures sooner.

Lying in bed in his arms late that night, with the light of the moon bathing the room, had had kissed her reverently and said:

"Thank you, Kathryn, for saving my life..."

******

Kathryn walked next to Kolopak towards the edge of the village. It was her fourth day on Dorvan. Her hair was parted in the middle and caught in two long braids that fell gently over the swell of her breasts. She was also dressed in the apparel of the villagers, an outer garment Sekaya had given her. The sun was high and in the afternoon there were not many people walking in the street. Although there were few children in the village, they too, kept to the shades and didn't venture out into the fields. Kolopak wore a hat with a very wide brim, and this was what she remembered most of the past few days about Kolopak: his wide brimmed hat. Kolopak stopped to look at her.

"It is our most sacred place, the _Habak,_ Kathryn."

"I learn much from you - " she started.

"Chakotay rejected our ways; he would not have told you of our beliefs and culture."

"It was always in his heart, Father," Kathryn replied and she experienced a thrill again when Kolopak smiled indulgently at her.

"Yes, my daughter. We can never deny our hearts, much as we try to. Something of what we taught always remained. I was hoping..."

"What were you hoping?" Kathryn asked, again taken in by his gentility, though she suspected that like Chakotay, the warrior lurked just beneath the surface in Kolopak too. As soon as she asked the question though, her eyes lit up in understanding. "I...understand, Father."

"It would have meant much to me, my daughter."

"Father, I brought Chakotay here. More I cannot decide for him..."

"Do you not think I understand, Kathryn? One day, Chakotay will hear the wind sing. It may not be in my lifetime, for I am old - "

"You are not old, Father." Kathryn smiled and took his hand. "You are not old," she repeated her words. Kolopak just smiled again, his dimples deepening.

"Well, you understand, Kathryn, what my desire is..."

She stopped and looked into his eyes. He held her gaze. For a fleeting moment she saw an image, of Chakotay's face superimposed on the man before her. She saw that beautiful tattoo on Chakotay's brow. Her heart constricted, a flash of pain, then it was over. She nodded, gave a small sigh. They walked the rest of the way in silence until they reached a stone building, its architectural style in keeping with the rest of the pueblo. There was no sign anywhere, but Kathryn knew it immediately it was not a house, but a communal building, the _habak_ as Kolopak said.

"We are here, Kathryn. As my daughter and as a member of my family, you have the same right as any of us to experience what I am going to show you..." Kolopak said. Kathryn nodded again. The past few days Chakotay had told her of the rituals and traditional ceremonies of the people here. She had been fascinated, and felt a little twinge of regret that she was only just learning to get to know her husband's cultural life.

They entered and walked to the middle of the room where there was a ladder that led to a trapdoor of some kind. Strange, Kathryn thought. From the outside she couldn't see any upper level of the building, and perhaps it was situated further back. She had seen a chimney-like funnel just before the entered the _Habak_. They climbed up, Kolopak following just behind her.

At the top, she clambered over a small style and then she stood in a room. She turned to see Kolopak also climbing over and then he stood next to her. He was breathing heavily and for a second Kathryn wondered about his strength. He wasn't young anymore.

She looked about her and in the centre of the room there was a fire pit surrounded by a ring of stones. A fire smouldered gently, and strangely, Kathryn couldn't see any curls of smoke. Although the room was darkened, it was airy.

"Kolopak, I - " Kathryn started when she realised how hallowed the place was and that her presence in it was sacrilege.

The hand that touched her shoulder was reassuring.

"Do not fear, Kathryn. Come," Kolopak ordered. He took her hand and together they seated themselves around the pit of fire.

Kolopak removed a pouch from his waist belt and opened the pouch. Kathryn assimilated everything around her, not asking questions. It was quiet, but it was a silence that bathed itself around them. Sounds from outside were only very distant, and very faintly she could hear what sounded like a cricket. She watched as Kolopak took a handful of what had to be a herb grown on Dorvan. It was very loose in texture and reminded her of thyme, or rosemary - herbs her grandmother used to grow. Kolopak spread the herb around the hearth of the fire pit, and immediately the fire sprang into life, burning a little more brightly than the earlier smouldering. Then Kolopak took her hand again, and they remained sitting cross-legged, watching the fire and the curls of smoke that rose upwards.

"Akoochee-moya…we are far from the sacred places of our fathers…" she heard Kolopak's voice, soft, insistent, resonant.

It was hypnotic, the effect of the fire and the smoke and the faint smell of herbs. Kathryn was drawn to the headiness it induced. Did she feel herself being lifted? Was it the flame that licked in curling tongues higher and higher? Did the smoke take the shape of a human, or was it a human form that appeared out of the smoke? Kathryn couldn't quite distinguish which it was. All she knew was that a human appeared, as clearly as Kolopak who sat next to her.

"Kolopak…speak…" the voice commanded.

"Father, I come to present Kathryn, wife of my son…"

The old man had the longest silver-grey hair that Kathryn had seen on anyone. His face creased, with deep furrows down his cheeks, he looked at Kathryn with piercing eyes. It was such a direct gaze that Kathryn felt a momentary uneasiness which soon dissipated when he spoke again.

"You walk the path of the grey eagle with Cha-ko-tay…" he stated and Kathryn nodded. Then there was a small silence and again Kathryn felt the unease. When she felt Kolopak's hand squeeze gently, the feeling lifted. The old man didn't move from where he stood in the centre of the fire as of he rose from it, yet Kathryn could swear that he touched her - a touch that was embracing and warm and kind as a gentle breeze.

"My daughter…"

Kathryn had to smile. She was part of the family now.

"Yes, great Father?" she asked softly.

"The time will come," the old man said, "that the eagle will fly away from you…"

It sounded strange, the prophetic words that Kathryn could not find meaning to but sensed in her heart that a great task lay ahead of her.

"What shall I do then, great Father?" she asked, her heart full of the importance of his words.

"Never lose sight of the eagle, Kathryn, wife of Cha-ko-tay…"

As suddenly as the old man appeared, the image vanished and all Kathryn could see was the smoke. She gave a short gasp and turned to Kolopak whose eyes looked for a moment pained. When he smiled and nodded, she felt better. He must have always come here to seek out his own father's counsel.

Kolopak pulled her gently to her feet.

"Come, my daughter. We each have our task that awaits us," he said enigmatically.

****

They were met by Sekaya and little Winonah who ran towards Kathryn.

"Aunt Kathryn!" the child cried excitedly as Kathryn bent down and scooped Winonah into her arms. Kathryn enjoyed the feel of the child's soft body, her baby smells although she was already four years old.

"She's really attached to you, Kathryn," said Sekaya softly as she fell into stride next to them and walked the rest of the way to their parents' home.

"And she's known you only two weeks," added Kolopak indulgently as Winonah leaned over to him and touched her grandfather's cheek.

"We're leaving tomorrow, sweetie," Kathryn said and kissed Winonah. Winonah looked like her mother mostly, but she had her father Kolnar's eyes and shape of the mouth. The child had shoulder length straight hair that swayed as she moved her little head. Winonah hugged Kathryn enthusiastically.

"Aunt Kathryn will come again?" Winonah asked, cupping both Kathryn's cheeks and planting a kiss on her lips.

"Uh-huh…" Winonah clapped her little hands, then asked," then I will know the nine times table!"

"Oh, my…"

"She learns quickly," Sekaya said and Kathryn nodded. Kathryn had seen the quick flash of sadness in Sekaya's eyes and she wondered whether Chakotay's sister had already thoughts of Winonah one day leaving Dorvan to pursue a career in the stars. Already Tomaso, Kohana's son, had indicated his intention. As small as Winonah was, she already had a deep curiosity about things around her, especially the skies. She was very much like Chakotay in that respect. Kathryn had not wanted to sway Sekaya or encourage the child too much. Here on this world the child was in her element, and if ever she desired to leave one day, it would be because it had been something that was borne out of her own desire and curiosity for knowledge… Kathryn gave a sigh. She would have liked to have little Winonah and her mother to visit them on Earth, or be her guests on the Crimond for a while…

"She is quite curious, Sekaya…" Kathryn said in a voice that sounded as if she wanted to dissuade Sekaya from a path she wanted her child to take.

"I will not let our beliefs be a barrier to her progress, Kathryn, if that is what you are thinking." Kathryn looked gratefully at her sister-in-law and nodded. The truth was, she had been thinking like that and wondered how many others there were on Dorvan who had the same insatiable desires Chakotay had…how many others disappointed their fathers like Chakotay did… It was a mercy that Kohana had given his blessing that Tomaso attend the Academy when the time was right for him.

"I understand, Sekaya."

"We'll miss you, Kathryn," said Sekaya. Kathryn had often gone for walks with Sekaya and Kathryn had found her to be a lively person with a keen sense of humour. "Chakotay is very lucky…"

"I'll miss you too, you know," Kathryn replied, turning to a grave looking Kolopak. "I'll make certain we come again, Father. In this year," she added with a quirky smile. She guessed it would be about the time of her birthday or thereabouts. They were due for leave , but anything was possible to change that, given the shaky relationship between Cardassia and the Federation. Tomorrow, when they returned to Earth, she would receive her new commission as Captain of the USS Crimond.

"Thank you, Kathryn," Kolopak said as they entered the cool house where Hannah was waiting for them. When Kathryn saw Hannah, her heart thudded wildly as her hand clasped the locket round her neck. Hannah… Maybe one day…

****

She liked to kiss Chakotay. She liked it even better when she was lying on top of him with her hips brushing sensually against his so that the feel of hair between them created a friction he found impossible to ignore. Then he invariably lifted his hips against hers even when he wanted to lie still and ignore the delicious wriggling.

Kathryn could feel his arousal and she gave a sigh of victory. She bit gently into his lower lip, and the way he moaned as her teeth sank into him encouraged her to continue biting, nipping. His whole mouth was her playing area as she explored daintily with her tongue, licking him, darting into his mouth and running it along his teeth. Then his mouth would open as he allowed her more room where she could taste him everywhere in little butterfly light caresses that offered a suggestion of a touch which he seemed to feel as an intense sensation that caused him to writhe beneath her. With her hands holding his head so that he couldn't move away from her seeking lips and tongue, her breath warm and touch moist, he let her maul him gently, then more boldly as the ardour carried him away. Her breasts flat against his chest incited him as her nipples grazed his, and Kathryn knew exactly the moment when Chakotay's hand would slip in between them and lift her so that he could cup each breast with his large hands, fondle them and watch her with half closed eyes heavy with desire.

These were moments that she enjoyed just touching him, even when he was hard with his arousal and he wanted to sink himself deeply into her. She delayed those moments, savouring every second before the great coming together. Almost, it was more special because she could read his thoughts, every single word or phrase that went through him as she touched him, and allowed him to touch her.

Breathing was slow, heavy, punctuated with short gasps and little moans of pleasure. His hands were on her back, stroking, moving further down to knead her buttocks. Kathryn shifted and without volition his shaft positioned close to her entrance. Like a well fitting glove or garment that she wore close to her, he fitted between her thighs, and she could feel his feet brushing with hers, so that there was not an area along the length of their bodies where they did not touch.

Always, it was like that and always, she relished being connected to Chakotay like that.

Chakotay sighed deeply as he lifted her to cup her breasts and Kathryn, knowing that he would do so in that moment, had helped by raising herself into that position. Only then Chakotay moved his hips against hers. Even as she braced herself and he held her up by cupping each of her creamy breasts that had caused yet another sharp intake of breath as he touched them, Kathryn's hand dipped between them and closing her eyes, she guided him into her, her moist folds ready and warm as she received him. A groan escaped from deep inside him as Chakotay filled her.

He thrust lazily in her; with her hands on his shoulders she found his rhythm quickly and together they moved, the feel of him pushing and pulling, her own body synchronising with his in a series of long thrusts. Her little cries and moans, joined by his own short grunts floated about, light and airy as the morning sun streamed through the windows of the room. Bodies sweated, breath mingled and thighs slapped together, and the climax when it came lifted them to a realm where sound and taste and touch and smell merged into a swirling mist of pleasure.

Kathryn fell against him when it was over, breathing heavily, happy in the knowledge that Chakotay too, lost control and found his breathing erratic, struggling for long minutes to ease again into a relaxed state.

Kathryn lifted her head lazily, watched through heavy lids that Chakotay's eyes were still closed as he lay, mouth open, utterly at her mercy.

"We'll come here again, sweetheart," he said quietly.

Kathryn rolled off him finally and settled next to him. She brushed her hair away from her face.

'We'll have to, Ambassador Chakotay…"

Only then he opened his eyes and turned his face to her.

"Ambassador, huh…"

"You love them, Chakotay."

Chakotay raised himself on his elbow and touched her face gently. He bent down to kiss her. When he leaned back, she could see the look in his eyes was no more so shuttered whenever she mentioned his family, particularly his father. He had been more amenable talking about his father, and she knew that if not now, then somewhere in the future he would confess to his own lack of perception, his own misplaced pride and rebellion against his father that had kept them apart for so many years.

When Chakotay nodded, it was enough for her, for now.

"Chakotay," she asked a few days ago, just after she had been to the _Habak_ with Kolopak, "how do you initiate a vision quest if you're away from Dorvan, like on your vessel or elsewhere like on Earth?"

Only then he told her about the _akoonah_ and the river stone and the medicine bundle.

He told her about his spirit guide…

They were to leave that afternoon, and Kathryn had been loathe to rise from the bed. She had been seduced by the beauty and tranquillity of Dorvan. Even the house the lived in… Chakotay's bedroom had no door, the entrance a wide arch through which it could be reached from the lounge, or the foyer. The first evening she had been reserved, wondering whether they might be disturbed. After that… It had been a liberated feeling, making love with him while just outside the window they could hear the voices of the villagers who passed.

"Don't worry, Kathryn. When I am inside my _abode_ with my wife, they know better than to intrude…" he had told her arrogantly that night. Even now, when any moment Winonah and her mother would come in, she had not been afraid. She had gotten quickly used to that… Kathryn smiled inwardly. One morning Sekaya had given her a secret, _knowing_ little smile just after Kathryn and Chakotay had made love…

"I'm sorry to leave, Chakotay," she said finally as she got up to prepare to shower, and she tied up her hair quickly. Chakotay stood behind her hugging her and kissing the back of her neck.

"We'll be here again, sweet Kathryn, and…"

"And…?" she asked, her breathing become low again as Chakotay's insistent nuzzling started to excite her again.

"And you'll see something like you've never seen before…"

****

TBC

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter - meet GUL EVEK and Sub-Commander Sedeka. Mature themes here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This Chapter contains scenes of a sexually explicit and erotic nature. Readers must be 18 and over to read this.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

**March 2370 - CARDASSIA PRIME**

 

Gul Evek was a tall man of ample proportions. Despite his size which gave an impression of ungainliness, Gul Evek was anything but clumsy. His black armour fitted snugly around his body and his neck was a little more pronounced than the average Cardassian male. His scales which protruded from his temples down the sides of his neck were hard, bluish-purple in colour. It was his eyes though, that filled something like fear into those who looked at him. Cold, distant, something underhand and evil, Evek projected the way his colleagues did: terror.

Brought up on Cardassia Prime, he had a deep, patriotic attachment to his homeworld, and like most other Cardassians he was fiercely proud of their heritage. Born into a military family, Gul Evek had shown very early on his inclination for the military sciences and like his father and grandfather before him, rose rapidly in the ranks of Cardassia's military and assumed at a relatively young age the title or rank of _Gul._ The first vessel he commanded had been the _Perog Nor,_ a smallish warship that had, by the time he assumed command, almost outlived its life. The vessel suffered fatigue in its hull and bulkheads, and one day, while fighting off the advances of the Krepekians whose homeworld possessed rich deposits of kolonium ore, just the inducement Cardassia needed to plunder in the year 2355, his ship had taken significant damage. It had taken one blast from a Krepekian vessel to cause the _Pereg Nor's_ hull to breach. Were it not for the speedy transport to the _Berotat_ , Gul Evek would have been a collection of molecules drifting in space like his vessel.

Thirteen of his men had died during that stand-off with the Krepekians who had put up a harder fight for the preservation of their home than the Cardassians had anticipated. Reprisal had been swift and chilling. Not a man or woman on Krepek remained alive who could tell their descendants that they had successfully protected their world; not a man or woman alive could say that they outwitted the superior Cardassians.

Still, Evek's eldest son Marek died… An eldest son was an eldest son, with all the importance attached to such a designation, just like he had been and his father before him. He had felt the loss then as keenly as if he himself had contemplated his own death.

Then Korek and Soren died at the hands of the United Federation of Planets. The Federation had proved to be their most revered foe. So much so that the truce that had been signed three years ago, remained an uneasy one in which his people had often broken their pledge of maintaining peace. Evek was not afraid to admit to that. His three sons were dead, two at the hand of Federationists who protected other territories. Now, with a major stand-off looming, it was necessary to effect peace again. Three sons and one daughter were still at home, too young to fight and take up arms against the Federation aggressors.

His new vessel, the _Vetar,_ a type 3 Galor-class warship, was the vessel most aspiring _guls_ dreamed of commanding. Evek had been the most fortunate in being awarded the singular honour of commanding the _Vetar_ , with a crew complement of two hundred. It was the most powerful vessel in the Cardassian fleet, establishing once again the faith that the Cardassian Union had in one of their most experienced guls. He had shown little emotion when his sons died, and more than anything else, it was this characteristic that endeared him to his superiors, the fact that he could, even when direly struck by calamity, he could surge ahead and confront his aggressors. The grieving had come later, after Soren died. Soren had been struck by a firing Federation shuttle of the Federation Galaxy-class starship, the USS Ormskirk. After Soren's death he had walked to the heat caves of Cardassia Prime where no one could see his grieving and wept for the sons he lost. The Union praised men like him who could, in the face of their own adversity, take on the next challenge and the next and the next.

Evek had the greatest faith in the battle capabilities of the _Vetar._ Armed with Galor-class plasma banks, the heavy weapons array was designed for his vessel and others of its class. The same plasma banks were installed in ten of the _Vetar_ 's shuttles.

The Federation would get the surprise they deserved as soon as the Treaty was signed. While talks were still under way for the terms of the new Treaty which was ultimately the last line of defence of the old overtures for a truce between Cardassia and the United Federation of planets, plans had gone ahead to arm the shuttles of all their Galor-class vessels to the hilt. The Federation and the Klingons were their only real adversaries and they had needed to be prepared. Their shuttles were as menacing as their destroyers, and they would use any means necessary to protect their territory, even if that meant disregarding the rules of engagement.

His reconnaissance mission to Dorvan, fifth planet of the Dorvan System was the task given him by the Union to establish a viable settlement to protect the Cardassian borders. Dorvan, currently a member world of the United Federation of planets proved to have the natural resources the Cardassian Union sought. A simple halfway station, it was to provide valuable provisions for the military once they'd established control of the region. Fortunately, Dorvan lay on the perimeter of Federation space and close to the Cardassian border so that drawing it during the talks and coming Treaty into a protected Cardassian area of sorts, could be easy to manipulate its peoples. Evek growled with satisfaction as he thought of the ways in which they would subjugate those fighting them.

One man stood in the way of their progress.

Only one man.

That was why Gul Evek had called upon Sub-Commander Sedeka in his quest to whittle down the defence of Dorvan, even before the Treaty was concluded. He had been pacing the floor of the Science Hall for the last hour waiting for Sub-Commander Sedeka to arrive with important news and developments.

Drumming his fingers against the hard outer armour of his military suit, he had a sudden vision of the Sub-Commander Sedeka. She was beautiful; she excited him, thrilled him to the point of madness. She was attracted to him, that he sensed the moment he had first laid eyes on her when she had been a junior commander on his earlier vessel. Sedeka was a predatory cat who sensed that he wanted to bury himself inside her. He lusted after her and Sedeka had been most forthcoming, but not without a price. She got under his skin, manipulative bitch that she was. A bitch who it seemed to him, was perpetually in heat. He fucked her on their first meeting in his office when he interviewed her for his engineering team.

But, although he was a widower and sometimes threw her to the floor to fuck her mindlessly, he still had four young children who remained his responsibility. Three of them were boys. Therefore when Sedeka arrived, he would brace himself against her and set about instructing her in the formidable task at hand for her. He grinned to himself as he paced the floor of the Science Institute. There was no doubt that Sedeka would find the task suited to her capabilities. Gul Evek could picture the malevolent curl to Sedeka's mouth while she eyed him with narrowed green eyes. He could imagine her saying: "Now, Gul Evek, when have I ever failed with any mission?"

But Sedeka was a maddening beacon that drew men to her, her beauty unsurpassed among the Cardassian women. Sedeka liked him, but Sedeka liked men. She was clever, astute, too astute to be caught up in any entanglement that would taint her image of being a brilliant tactician who was not above using her looks to achieve her goals. Together they could set about reducing the entire Federation to ashes. They made a team that would get results.

He was restlessly drumming his fingers and when the door opened at the end of the hall, Gul Evek, toughened Cardassian gul, for once gulped hard when Sub-Commander Sedeka walked towards him. Her hips swayed in supreme confidence of her powers; the black armour looked one hundred times better on her than on any male Cardassian gul, accentuating in understated tones the old Cardassian dictum that women gave class to any garment that justified the worship of beauty and shape. Evek could feel his crotch itching; the impulse to himself there to relieve the tightness was so potent that he gave an involuntary growl to prevent him from disgracing himself before this woman. Sedeka continued to saunter slowly towards him, the curve of her mouth the only indication that she knew the effect she was having on him. He relented as his bulge thickened; he found himself unable to keep his mind away from the prospect of laying this women flat on a table and burrowing his oversized pole in her. So he endured the ignominy of his condition that reflected a lack of control in him, cursed the fact that his mind that was usually closed and impenetrable to forces other than the matter at hand, could let him down at this important discussion.

Sedeka stopped in front of him. Her eyes dripped sensuality, the warmth of her breath drifting to him. When she spoke, her voice was low and husky.

"You called, Gul Evek."

Evek tried to shut out the full lips, the narrowing eyes that reminded him of their predatory Cardassian cat-walker. He could as easily take his dagger and jam it between her ribs and kill her as he could spread her legs and fuck her before even answering her. For one blinding second, Evek considered the former. Sedeka knew the power she had over him. She also knew when to draw the line. They were playing a game, like Earth's great chess game, constantly taking the pieces and marking new territory, pitting wit against wit. She danced around him, just as he danced around her. Who was going to strike first? His crotch had to wait, for a few moments at least, he thought with pleasure.

"I have a task for you," he started without preamble. He was glad that the gleam in her eyes darkened to something like disappointment for a fleeting second. What did she expect? That he'd fuck her first and then talk? It was like that in the past. Sedeka took one step forward and stood very close to him, far enough that there was a breathing space between them, close enough that it could render him uncomfortable.

"My guess is, it has certain…perks?" she asked huskily. Did her tongue come out and lick over her lower lip?

"Certainly, for a female like you, such a task would break the tedium of your day to day reconnaissance."

"A female like me?"

"Do not pretend, Sedeka," Gul Evek said as he closed the distance completely between them so that the breastplate of her armour touched his. His breath warmed her skin, the same bluish-purplish tinge like his. Her ridges were a little softened on her, enhancing her beauty rather than create a detracting or repulsive effect. "You know exactly what I mean."

Sedeka raised her hand to his face, and her fingernail scratched the underside of his chin.

"You know, Gul Evek, women like me are considered _abhail._ I find my pleasures with any man. I make no apology…"

"It's why I like you, Sub-Commander Sedeka. You do not pretend."

"So, what is this task you have for me?"

"I'll give you your reward first, Sedeka," Gul Evek growled as his hand touched her cheek. He had lost his resolve of earlier, but the anticipation of the joining thrilled him. Sedeka gave a cry of pleasure at the touch. Evek smiled. She wanted him. The kiss that followed was rough, hard, leaving a trail of blood on their lips only seconds later.

"Come," Evek commanded as he pulled Sedeka into an ante-room.

Quickly divesting her of her armour, he growled again as she groped frantically to help him. He pulled the bodysuit roughly from her, tearing it in the process.

"That's very, very good, Sedeka," he groaned as his mouth reached for one nipple into which he bit so hard that Sedeka cried out loudly. Evek did not stop; the biting excited her, drove her mad with pleasure. His hands grazed roughly over the scales on her back as he pulled her even closer to him. His mouth found the other nipple, and Sedeka's hands grasped at his hair to balance herself. He sucked hard on the nipple for a few moments in which he heard her cry out with lust. One hand found its way to her centre where he drilled two rough fingers into her, groaning as her moist inside lubricated him. Suddenly, the nipple plopped out of his mouth and he released her softness. He looked at her. His eyes were red, gleaming hotly, and his breathing was ragged.

Sedeka's eyes looked just as hot, fevering with lust. Her lips were parted.

"You're an imbecile, Evek. What are you waiting for?" she hissed provocatively. "There, you're limp already…" She insulted him and that provoked him to return the insult.

"No, bitch!" he cried. "I'm hard for you, Sedeka!" Then he threw her down, flipped her on her stomach, raised her hips and spread her thighs as wide as he could.

"I'll show you," he growled, wanting to kill her at the same time as Sedeka wiggled her hips.

"You're going bring your armada?" she taunted.

"Not _this_ time, Sub-Commander," Evek boasted, then pushed his thick rod into her waiting centre, ramming it in so hard that Sedeka bobbed forward. Evek was still standing and he had lifted her thighs away from the floor as he hammered himself into her. Sedeka gave a loud cry of pleasure and Evek, incited by her wails and moans and grunts, kept ramming into her soft, moist vagina, feeling her walls move, separate and close around his cock like a giant clam. Their grunts joined; Sedeka was wet with her own juices. He groaned as his cock grazed roughly in and out, trying to drive in as deeply as he could. The sheer pleasure drove him wild. Sedeka accommodated him brilliantly as she too moved with him, giving, encouraging, coaxing to him madness. He enjoyed her, relished her softness, her participation. She couldn't get enough. Sedeka wanted more, more, more.

Evek thought he could fuck Sedeka till the next day without pausing, so deep and satisfying was the pleasure he got from pushing his engorged flesh deeply in and out of her soft body. When he screamed, Sedeka screamed too.

Minutes later, drowsy yet still aroused, he lifted Sedeka again. He held the sides of her head, looked deeply into her eyes. Her hands were already on his cock, coaxing it to painful hardness. Her lips were inviting, two doors to an entrance that promised soft, moist heat...

"Open your mouth, Sedeka…"

Evek lifted her to her knees as she complied and in the next moment, he pushed his cock slowly, languorously into her waiting mouth. He emitted a long, keening howl as he moved past her teeth that scraped him, grazed her tongue that lapped at his underside, moving past her tongue and traveling, going deeper and deeper into moist depths. Sedeka held his buttocks and pulled him closer to her. "Oh, the spirits, Sedeka, I want to vanish forever into you…" he moaned softly as he gave a final push and lodged himself to the hilt. He closed his eyes, the intense pleasure riding in lazy curls through his body, the urge to fuck her mouth so hard that she could only beg for mercy by pulling him even closer, only temporarily stayed so that she could shift and position her neck, craning it in such a way that the tip of his cock slipped over her gullet.

Sedeka grabbed his butt and gave him two hard pushes.

Evek screamed. She wanted him to ride her as hard as he did her vagina. He grabbed her hair and grunted with every thrust into her mouth. Evek was so crazed with pleasure that he lost all sense of who was in control. He knew distantly that Sedeka was fucking him, although he was doing all the work. She was not going to be the meek one in this hard and fast and elemental copulation. When he ejaculated down her throat, he swam in the darkness of embarrassment as Sedeka swallowed his cum. She sucked and sucked.

When at last she pushed him out of her mouth, she rose to her feet.

"I'm not finished, Evek," she said with a lazy drawl.

"Spirits, Sedeka," was all he could say before Sedeka pushed him with unexpected force on the floor so that he lay on his back, his cock again rock hard.

He laughed, but the laugh died as Sedeka straddled him and swiftly impaled herself on his waiting heat…

"Here, in this game, Evek, I am the master…"

***

The hour was late, but Gul Evek and Sub-Commander Sedeka were still deep in consultation. Their sex romp was put aside for the now more pressing task the sub-commander had been called to Evek's offices in the first place. Neither thought of the hours earlier when they rutted like animals and fed their heated hunger until they were exhausted. Now, Sedeka had been staring at the monitor for the last hour studying the data that scrolled endlessly. From time to time she would stop the scrolling, read and mull over what she had just read for long minutes.

Gul Evek stood at the adjacent monitor, looking scrumptiously at her, his mouth curving into a smile. He shook his head mentally as he turned his attention again to his console. There was no opportunity for him to feel aggrieved that Sedeka had put their rough copulation so quickly to one side. He was a man, and like a man, he wanted to female to remember at least a part of their intercourse, to establish it in her mind as a memory.

He didn't think he could lay claim to anything memorable of the two hours he had sex with her, nor could Sedeka lay any claims. In fact, he knew that any memory of what was good in intercourse invariably had at its core love, deep respect for the partner, a sharing of minds. With Sedeka there was none of that, so that the only claims he could ever make in future was that he did bed Sedeka, nothing more. She pleasured his body. For his more intellectual needs, he read a good book.

If Sedeka were searching for the right man, she would not find him among their own race. She was considered _abhail_ as she herself stated earlier. He doubted seriously whether Sedeka would ever find such a man - one who would want her for more than her body. She had an incisive mind, was a brilliant engineer and tactician, but she inspired lust, not love.

Still, he did have a high regard for her in so far as her ability to be manipulative, seductive, pleasant with a deceptive and mean streak in her. She was a master, he gave her that due.

"Here is what the Cardassian Union wants you to do," he told her two hours ago.

"Ah, Evek, you did not come up with the idea for this mission yourself?"

Her words were an insult; they cut through him. The directive did come from higher up, and despite all his attempts to the contrary, Sedeka was quick to pounce on the fact that the idea had not been his own to start with.

"I was told to find the right person for the job. I thought of you," was his rejoinder.

"So, what is it I must do?"

Sedeka was suddenly business-like in her manner and voice. She had long smoothed her mane of hair, smoothed down her torn bodysuit and donned her armour over the suit. The boots were knee high and once again she was looking like a true Cardassian warrior. A warrior with a mission.

"The planet Dorvan is your target. You are to proceed there before our armada moves in, and soften the locals."

Sedeka had given a knowing smirk. She understood very well what he meant by softening the locals. Still, Sedeka was exceptional, and she would employ her own unique brand of "softening up".

"To...ruffle a few feathers a bit before the finalisation of the Treaty, no doubt. They have their weaknesses, Evek. There's not a man or woman alive who is not vulnerable..."

She had given him a speculative look; he experienced a momentary anger and a return of the old urge to put a knife through her belly. She had been in control after he fucked her a few times. She had driven him to the edge of damnation, making him scream with hidden enjoyment. He hadn't wanted to let so much of himself go, but Sedeka...the bitch was royally in heat.

"You are right, Sub-Commander Sedeka."

He used her rank deliberately and sneered when her eyes flashed suddenly. There was an angry glint for only a moment, then it was gone. He was her senior in rank. He thrilled in reminding her of that from time to time, just to establish the order of rank between them. Now he stood watching her, grudgingly admiring her supreme concentration. Like most Cardassians, Sedeka had a photographic memory, and coupled with her ability to assimilate information and methodically analyse it, made her a formidable foe. He had been vindicated in his decision to select Sedeka and pledge to his superiors that it would be a successful mission.

"Anything yet?"

"Perhaps."

"Would Gul Evek be important enough to be informed?" He baited her. It was her duty to keep him informed.

Only then Sedeka looked up from her work and her elegantly ridged forehead deepened its frown. Her eyes though, were sharp as they fixed on him.

"Do you know my father's cousin Gul Gorek?"

Evek nodded. Gorek was a tyrant who neglected the culture of his race. He was coarse, uncouth and maniacal and, he strove to give the impression of Cardassian class.

"Yes, I know of him," Evek replied.

"Then you also know that - "

"He has a Bajoran mistress."

"Nothing escapes you, it seems," Sedeka replied, her eyes lighting up. Evek sensed she approved of they way he kept abreast of events in the Union. "Her name is Adra Karan," Sedeka added.

Gul Evek wondered what Gul Gorek's mistress had to do with Sedeka's plans. He didn't know how Adra Karan could fit into her scheme.

"She has a son, Tor Karan, Cadet First Class at Starfleet Academy..."

It dawned instantly on Evek. There was the link Sedeka needed.

"He has spoken with his mother? How?"

"Do not worry too much about that, Gul Evek. He does not in fact, talk much, and only parts with information he believes is innocuous, that cannot be used. But here is something very interesting." Sedeka beckoned him to her own station and let him look at the monitor. Evek started at the face of a woman in the uniform of a Starfleet Captain. He knew the four rank pips on the collar of her shirt indicated that designation. A beautiful woman, he supposed, by Earth standards, but too pale. Was she a Caucasian? he wondered.

"Captain Kathryn Janeway, commanding officer of the USS Crimond..." Evek was not going to ask Sedeka how she had come by this information on the crew complement of the USS Crimond. Sedeka spoke again.

"Does her name ring a bell, Evek?"

"Their so-called covert mission to Bajor a year ago. She must have met with family of Adra Karan."

"That's possible, Evek..."

"But there's more," he guessed.

"Information is sketchy, but it was all I needed. We're looking for links, Evek. Look here..."

Sedeka scrolled down and stopped, her hand going to the screen.

"The boy spoke with his mother in the last month, Evek," she said triumphantly.

"You got this via Gul Gorek.." Evek stated blandly. Sedeka nodded.

The picture of Tor Karan appeared on the screen. Sedeka could have been an undercover agent, Evek thought. She was already doing such work... He knew she had this information somehow downloaded to their computers. This was additional to all information they had on Federation officers and political leaders, their advancements in technology and the like. If only Cardassia had those industrial replicators...

"Tor Karan is a senior cadet, and in his current semester he is studying Advanced Tactical Training."

"He's not your target."

"No, but his commanding officer is."

"Who is he?"

"Commander Chakotay, Native American from Earth. His family lives on Dorvan."

"Ah..."

"There's more."

"So?"

"This was relayed via Tor Karan to his mother. The boy is stupid."

"I hope that whatever calamity you have in store for your...er...victims, will not be attributed to young Tor Karan..."

"You get soft in the head, Gul Evek. There is no time for sentiment."

He agreed with her, but young Karan reminded him of his own Soren... Soren...

"Tell me."

"Commander Chakotay is married to Captain Kathryn Janeway," Sedeka stated, her eyes taking on a malicious gleam.

"Commander Chakotay of the USS Ormskirk..." Gul Evek exhaled slowly when he realised what he was reading when he looked at the face of Chakotay in Starfleet uniform. "His people are the inhabitants of Dorvan and he may have been the - ."

"- pilot of one of the Ormskirk's shuttles who was responsible for Soren's death..." Sedeka said, her voice a little more sympathetic.

Gul Evek shook his head slowly, then he looked at Sedeka. She had been clever, very, very clever. Soren's death, more than that of his two other sons lay closest to his heart. Soren most resembled his late mother - Soren who had the makings of a leader, of a Gul; Soren who had dreams like none of his children had. Yes, he was sorriest to lose Soren. He had affection for his remaining children as a father would, but he loved Soren.

Inside him the rage built up, a rage that was directed at Chakotay, at Kathryn Janeway, at Dorvan. If he wanted to hurt the United Federation of Planets, then their most devoted servants would be his targets. So Evek justified acting on the death of his son, while his task for the Cardassian Union suddenly paled, though nonetheless still very present. He looked at Sedeka, stared at her in a long, penetrating gaze.

"You know what you must do, Sub-Commander Sedeka," he said calmly, dangerously.

"Yes, Gul Evek. I know just what to do..."

Sedeka turned again to the face on the screen, staring long and contemplative at the face of Chakotay.

"We need Dorvan, Sub-Commander. By whatever means necessary, we'll see that Dorvan will be in our hands..."

"Do not worry, Evek. I have all the means at my disposal to achieve our ends..."

****

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**  

**April 2370 - USS CRIMOND**

Captain Kathryn Janeway made her way to the shuttle bays of the USS Crimond. She smiled as she passed junior officers and ensigns. Their "good morning, Captain" rang like music in her ears. Hands behind her back she paused here and there, offered a greeting, shared a comment or two with especially the young ensigns who seemed, she suspected, a little wary of her. Only on the bridge she was ultra-formal and business-like, too aware of the four shiny new rank pips, too aware that the success of her command rested on her performance and her conduct as an officer.

Had she paused to turn when the junior officers passed her, or even cocked her ears and eavesdropped, she might have heard such comments as:

"The captain is in a good mood today, Runé."

"That makes me a lot more comfortable, Junaid. I'm nervous around her, you know..."

"You shouldn't be. There's a lot of woman under the aura of aloofness."

"And not a man on this vessel who will bring it out in her..."

"But there is such a man, no doubt. Haven't you heard? Her husband is serving on the Ormskirk..."

"The Native American everyone drools over?"

"Yeah. That's the one..."

She knew though, that the crew talked, speculated, made bets, even fantasized!

Kathryn had accepted her new commission with honour, and vowed to be the best Captain she could be on board the vessel USS Crimond. She had taken over command from Andreas Buccholtz who based himself permanently in San Francisco after accepting a new posting at Starfleet Academy. Kathryn sighed. She wished Chakotay would... Then again, why should he when she herself still hankered so terribly after the stars? Her curiosity reached unquenchable levels, and like a drug administered that would relief her pain for a while, she explored the Alpha Quadrant and sated herself only temporarily. Sometime in the future, she would consider putting down roots that didn't move. Chakotay had never insisted _she_ stay at Headquarters... She was not ready for that. Not by a long shot.

Andreas Buccholtz who had secretly been in love with her best friend Dalene Petranoff, had made a decision Kathryn knew had been the most difficult to make in the circumstances. His wife whom he finally divorced had not let her children go easily as most people thought they would. After giving the impression of not caring one way or the other, Eleanor Buccholtz had offered objections, and relented only when she knew that Andreas was to settle at Headquarters. Maris and Eugenie could still visit her whenever they liked.

But it had seemed to Kathryn the girls had taken to Dalene immediately. It was Dalene's exuberance, her zest for life and her commitment to their father that won them over. They talked to her, something Dalene said later in a private communication to Kathryn, the girls had not done much with their mother. Andreas Buccholtz was a happy man now. In June Andreas and Dalene were to marry, as soon as she, Roger Petranoff and Chakotay could all be together at the same time.

When Kathryn reached the turbolift, she had been surprised and shook her head a little at the way her thoughts had run.

"Deck Twelve."

The lift moved noiselessly as it made its way to the deck where the shuttle bays were located.

She smiled again and felt a thrill coursing through her as she exited the turbolift and proceeded briskly to the main shuttle bay. It was some distance there, and she was a little tired. She needed to get out of her uniform, out of her boots, and soak in a hot tub. She had been on her feet all day and her feet ached. In truth, she had been wound up, so tense that the headache that started this afternoon and lingered as an irritating throb at the base of her skull had not left her. It was not life threatening and a visit to the medical bay was just a waste of time. She took a leaf out of Chakotay's book there. If _he_ could do without a physician while walking around with extreme pain, so could she. Lately, she had neglected paying the doctor a visit for her tension headaches which, not surprisingly, had made their presence felt the first time she took command of her vessel.

The Crimond was a large vessel, with a crew complement of four hundred, and the last few days moving between worlds on the outer perimeter of Federation space where they dropped new colonists, had been particularly busy. It was a break she needed of a few days and spending it on her own vessel while her Executive Officer, Commander Eamon Daley, took over for a few days. She had not wanted to return with the Crimond to Earth immediately, and the thought of shore leave was not too appealing at the moment. Besides, Chakotay...

"Good to see you here, Captain," Lieutenant-Commander Magnus Rollins, her Chief of Security greeted cheerily as she entered Shuttle Bay 1 and stood on a small platform to wait for an incoming shuttle.

"Thank you, Magnus." She turned to look expectantly at the shuttle bay doors.

"In 30 seconds, Captain," Rollins said with an efficient air.

"Dead on time, I should say. Remind me to take you with me when I'm posted to my next vessel, Mr Rollins."

Magnus Rollins nodded gravely. She liked him; he was super-efficient, a typical behind-the-scenes man who never much liked being fussed over, but was able to get things done which took much off her hands. Magnus had a ten year old son, James and seven year old daughter Pennina.

"Preparing for docking procedure..."

A minute later a shuttle appeared and touched down soundlessly on the shuttle pad. Kathryn looked at Magnus and smiled her gratitude, smile which he returned. She moved to the shuttle, but its pilot had already opened the hatch and stepped out. A warmth spread through her as Chakotay saw her and his face broke into a wide grin. He looked so incredibly handsome, her heart wanted to burst with pride. When he stopped in font of her, his dimples deepened and his eyes rested tenderly on her.

"Good timing, Commander. I expected you at exactly 2010 hours."

"You'd kill me if I were late, Captain. I dare not be late!" he said as he put his hands on her shoulders and drew her gently closer. Very mindful of the stares of Rollins and other lower decks crew who were always busy in the shuttle bays, Chakotay kissed her lightly on the lips. Kathryn groaned softly as an electric charge coursed through her. When Chakotay looked at her again, he looked almost regretful that the kiss was so short. But to Kathryn his eyes held a promise of a soak in a hot tub together later in the evening.

"I'm glad you could make it, sweetheart," she whispered softly as they walked, not touching, to where Magnus Rollins was giving commands to two ensigns. Rollins walked up to them.

"It's good to see you, Commander Chakotay. Our lives have been made hell on the Crimond," Rollins said with a hint of humour.

"Captain?" Chakotay looked at Kathryn and the twinkle in his eyes as well as Magnus's kind regard somehow absorbed any offence she might have felt at her Security Chief's words. Being Captain was still so new to her. So she smiled at them and nudged Chakotay that he follow her to the turbolifts. Chakotay's hand went up and touched her back lightly. "Well, Kathryn, you seem to invoke the fear of the devil in your subjects - "

"Chakotay! I'm not a monarch!"

"You're my queen," he whispered close to her ear as soon as they were walking along the long corridor towards the turbolift. The heat seemed to bounce off him and quiver between the two of them. Kathryn had a hard time trying to keep her cool as one or two crewmembers passed them. She hadn't been with her husband for more than a month, and it had cost some juggling to have his few days leave coincide with some of her off days, providing their vessels were in the same sector. She was afraid to touch him, not even his hand, and his own palm that had rested so briefly on her back, burned through her uniform. Already the heat had spread to her lower abdomen…When she looked at Chakotay, her face was a mask that covered the turbulent passion underneath.

"And I love you to distraction, Commander. But please, oh, please," she stated, glaring at him, one eyebrow elegantly arching, "let me get to my quarters in sane mind and body and, er…un-mussed..."

There was an undercurrent they couldn't hide and Chakotay gave a groan as he touched Kathryn's hand. His hand moved away swiftly when a crewman passed them. Kathryn still felt a little reserved when it came to displaying affection openly, even if the object of her affection was her husband. During their weekly subspace communications, whatever they tried to assuage their passion only fanned them to further intense hunger. She was going to suggest that they stop, since it served only to leave them unsated and hungrier than ever. Kathryn gave a little sigh which caused Chakotay to pause and look at her. He laced his fingers behind his back and gave a quirky smile.

"Captain, if we make it to your quarters in one piece, I'll extend my leave an extra day..."

That evoked the sweetest smirk from her.

"You're on, Commander."

In the turbolift they met two ensigns who nodded severely when she and Chakotay entered. Chakotay had greeted them courteously, but they appeared to sidle closer together, and in tandem they sought the turbolift wall that would put the greatest distance between them, the Captain and her husband.

"Ensigns, at ease before you sprain something," Kathryn said, hardly able to mask her amusement at the behaviour of the two young ensigns.

"Aye, Captain!"

"You've not met Commander Chakotay, have you?" she asked.

They shook their heads and Chakotay shook his head and then laughed, holding out his hand to them.

"Glad to make your acquaintance, er...?"

"Ensign Golwat, sir," the young Bolian woman said.

Chakotay frowned. "You're not related to - "

"Tongwat, sir. He's serving on your vessel..."

"Ah..." Chakotay responded. "Tongwat saved my life once."

"Yes, sir! In the mine shaft of Moldor IV."

The ensign seemed to relax visibly and her companion breathed a sigh of relief as he greeted:

"I'm Ensign Ellismere, Commander. Commander, may I say, Commander..."

Kathryn squeezed Chakotay's arm and gave a quirky smile.

"He'll ask you to ask me to go easy on them..."

"Captain!" Ellismere blustered, "how did you know?"

They were saved from having to answer when the turbolift doors opened and the ensigns practically baled out there as if they had been ejected from an air lock.

"What are you doing to them, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked as they exited a few seconds later on her deck.

"Oh, nothing more or less than the discipline I know you're so fond of exercising on the Ormskirk."

"You heard?"

"There's little I don't know when it comes to my husband, Chakotay," Kathryn breathed as she entered the codes to her cabin.

"Then," Chakotay breathed huskily as they entered her cabin and the doors slid close behind them, "you will know that I've been dying to do this…" He pulled Kathryn round roughly and before she could even react, his lips bore down on hers and locked in a searing kiss for such a long time that Kathryn's chest burned as she struggled to breathe. Chakotay's hands were in her hair, unpinning her the knot so that it fell loosely about them. His moan even as he refused to break off the kiss was evidence of his great need.

When he let her go at last, Kathryn took in great gulps of air. Her eyes were heated. Chakotay only allowed her a few more seconds to recover before he pulled her to him again, pulling her head back so that her arched neck lay exposed just before he trailed blazing kisses along the length of her neck, nipped her ear, returned to kiss her waiting mouth, their breath mingling as they groped hungrily at their uniforms.

"I'll never get enough of you," he whispered hoarsely as he started to bite off her rank pips one by one even as his hands tore off her jacket and pulled up her tank top. By the time he removed and spit out the last pip, the teal-coloured top was about to be pulled over her head. Chakotay gave a loud groan as his mouth caught one breast, the satin bra becoming an amazing ornament of eroticism as he sucked on a nipple.

Kathryn's hands had not been idle. She too, tugged at his rank pins one by one, and the soft thudding they made as they landed on the floor incited her as she pulled his jacket and top roughly from him.

Chakotay paused only a fraction from his blazing wandering kisses on her breasts, ears, lips, cheeks to look with glazed eyes at her.

Panting, he asked: "Nice, or not so nice, Kathryn?"

And Kathryn, her breathing low and erratic, managed to gasp.

"Oh, God, Chakotay, don't think. Just…do it!"

****

He could sit for hours and watch Kathryn sleep. He had been right after their first night together when he thought that she was a quiet sleeper. Not a ripple came from her, except the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. She had just shifted from her side to lie on her back and her arm was thrown out carelessly over the light cover he had thrown over her earlier.

They made love the moment they entered her quarters and until about an hour later, he had not given any thought how tired she had been. Only when she mentioned the lingering headache earlier, had he realised what magnificent restraint she must have exercised when she came down to meet him in the shuttle bay, and neglected to see the ship's doctor to give her some relief for her headache.

As it was, now, hours later, it seemed to have abated.

"It was because I missed you so much, Chakotay," she said as they sat in her tub and enjoyed a glass of wine. "I worked myself into a state…"

Under the water her toes fondled his crotch and a delicious sensation had gone through him. He had given a little moan of pleasure, but controlled the urge to take her again right there in the tub.

"Then I'm glad I came, honey. You needed the break."

The corner of her mouth lifted in a little smile as she acknowledged his words.

"Naturally, you could come again," she crooned seductively.

"You need to rest, Kathryn. Tomorrow, we'll play Velocity, and I'll allow you to beat me…"

"I always beat you anyway, Chakotay."

"There, see? I can see we'll have a great game tomorrow."

Kathryn had given him a grateful look.

"Did I tell you lately how much I love you, darling?"

"About once, a year ago…ouch!"

Kathryn had used her foot, and clamped her toes around his testicles, pinching as hard as she could. He spilled his drink, and when he shot up, Kathryn's glass shot out of her hand. Half an hour later both of them were busy mopping the bathroom. There had been water everywhere after he had grabbed and pulled her over him where his hardness had been ready and waiting as she sank down on him with a long drawn out sigh.

Now she lay sleeping, her breathing even, relaxed as he hadn't seen her lately. Their last communication via subspace she had a pinched look about her, her face sallow; at the time he had only been mildly concerned. He knew she had taken her new commission with all the seriousness the position entailed and that she had been almost obsessive about discipline and duty, not wanting to fail and more importantly, not wanting to be seen as lacking in control or weak. It had been harder on her because she was one of the few serving Starfleet female captains. While there had been parity for centuries between men and women, there still existed even today, a certain perception of women in high ranks - one which he thought was unfair in the extreme. They were, like any other male, not only commanding officers, but also human, women, with all the desires of having that aspect of their lives acknowledged A certain discrimination abounded which belied the modern air of enlightenment: women captains had to behave, act within certain parameters as suited to their rank and be an officer and a _lady_. The tag of _lady_ being mere semantics without the expression of womanhood. He wondered idly whether Kathryn would have contemplated marriage with him had she already been a captain when he met her the first time.

Thrusting that unpalatable thought from him, he tried to concentrate on the _Rubaiyat_ , but the words blurred and finally he put the book down and walked to the bed. He had been sitting in a deep chair that Kathryn had installed in her bedroom. He favoured a deep armchair and the one at home in San Francisco had become something of a joke between him and Kathryn.

"I swear, Chakotay, I'll have to counsel our children one day when we have them, to keep out of your chair."

So Kathryn, when she took her new commission, had the chair - a new one - brought in for whenever he was on her vessel. He smiled to himself. Just as he wanted to do so many things for Kathryn, in her own unobtrusive way, she made his life comfortable, especially after he had so much trouble with his leg that had taken so long to heal. She had been extra attentive and always concerned that he allowed his leg to heal properly. Now, a year later, he had no trouble anymore, and his walking stick had become a nice ornament hanging on a brace at home.

The bed creaked a little as his weight bore down on it, but Kathryn did not wake up; she only shifted her position again, gave a really deep contented sigh as her hand reached for him. He smiled to himself. She always sensed that he was near her, that she could reach out and touch him. Even now, though she was asleep, she knew her hand would be held in his and she curled her fingers around him.

With his free hand he smoothed away her hair from her face, then his palm rested for a moment against her cheek.

He knew that when she woke up, she'd ask him the question he had seen several times tonight in her eyes. Her birthday was next month and…he sighed. Bending over he planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. He had to leave again in two days for the Ormskirk, when they would rendezvous with the Enterprise. Captain Picard and his team would be heading for Dorvan V soon.

"You can tell me now, Chakotay…" he heard Kathryn's soft whisper. He rocked to attention. Did Kathryn hear his thoughts? he wondered.

"You're supposed to be asleep, darling," he countered, but Kathryn had stirred and in the next moment, she was sitting up and staring at him.

"You wouldn't normally interrupt my sleep, Chakotay," she said quietly.

He gave a little laugh. He didn't want to wake her outright, but just sitting on the bed next to her, had given the indication that something weighed on him.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Tell me." Kathryn frowned and caressed his cheek, her thumb grazing his lips.

"I'll not be home for your birthday, Kathryn…" He felt such a heel. They had made plans to celebrate at their home in Indiana. Kathryn had been feeling depressed at not being able to conceive again, and no matter how much he encouraged her that they shouldn't be in a hurry, she'd been quiet at times, deeply reflective, and at other times the mists had gone and she was bubbly again. Spending her birthday with her family in Indiana was as much a way of visiting her mother and sister again as it was a surrounding in which she could just be Kathryn, his friend, his lover, his companion. With her loved ones around her, who knows…?

He could see how her eyes clouded, but Kathryn quickly subdued her disappointment by given him a broad smile. He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back. When she looked at him again, there was a resolve in her eyes.

"We're Starfleet, Chakotay. We can't always choose where we want to be. Don't worry, honey. I know you'll contact me on that day or even before, but I know you won't forget…"

"I'll be on Dorvan V," he said soberly and Kathryn nodded. He had given her updates from time to time and Kathryn knew that talks were under way to effect a truce - yet another one - between Cardassia and the Federation. Dorvan V's position was unique. It lay on the edge of Federation space which was also the edge of the Cardassian Union's border. Both were interested in the planet, and Chakotay, only recently elected as an ambassador would have to be present to help protect the interests of his homeworld as best as he could for his people.

"It's more important than my birthday - "

"No, Kathryn. Your birthday is important to me. You'll have your gift, don't worry," he said and he pulled her in his arms again. He could feel Kathryn relax.

"Chakotay…"

"Hmmm?"

"No…it's alright. Forget it…"

Chakotay held her away from him.

"Come on, Kathryn. Something's on your mind." He stroked her cheek. "What's up, honey?"

When Kathryn touched the locket, Chakotay wished for a moment that he hadn't given her the gift. He sensed even when she had given him assurances to the contrary, that she wanted to please him by giving him a baby. He wanted her, he loved her, he would lay down his life for her. If there were to be a baby for them one day - one who shall be named Hannah - that would be a blessing, a gift given to them both. Right now, Kathryn was in a hurry to have a baby and perhaps it wouldn't be such a good idea that it happened so soon after they lost Jaime. He was aware of the burden such a new baby could carry. He'd heard it once before, from an old acquaintance who said: "We had this baby to replace the one we lost…" It didn't sit well with him, and he actually shrank back from his friend's statement. It wasn't what he wanted for him and Kathryn. In her time, Hannah will come.

"Patience, Kathryn, hmmm?"

Kathryn nodded, and the fleeting sadness was replaced by her old quirky smile. He wanted to haul her into his arms again but Kathryn rose from the bed and pulled him up.

"How about that game of Velocity now?"

"Kathryn! It's 0100 hours!"

"Chakotay! You were reading till a short while ago!" she parried.

Chakotay groaned and when he pulled her quickly into his arms to kiss her, their holodeck date was all but sealed.

***

Indiana in May. Kathryn always thought the season treated her birthday well. The morning turned out to be sunny; she was home for the first time in years on her birthday. Sitting in the swing seat on the porch with the sun streaming onto the floor was her idea of enjoying the tranquillity of home. She'd been reading _Persuasion_ as she woke up and lay in bed for the first hour and now the book lay on her lap, with a bookmark Chakotay had made for her. Ann Elliot was still being ignored by Frederick Wentworth who, if Mrs Bennet of Pride and Prejudice had her way of intruding on the someone else's story, would have said that Miss Elliot had used him abominably ill. So many centuries after the book had been written, Kathryn still found the language and style so quaint. But she adored her Miss Elliot, who was persuaded to put duty before love and sent away the man she adored for more than seven years…

Kathryn sighed. There was no doubt in her mind that Chakotay was an important part of her life; duty and command were necessary functions of her working life, but her personal life needed sustenance, she needed to be needed as a woman too. Chakotay had come into her life at a time when she thought that no man would ever again pierce the carefully erected armour she had been at so such pains to maintain. Only then she had considered seriously the necessity of giving herself and not weigh too hard the options of her duty to Starfleet and all it entailed and being a woman who was cherished by a man.

Not just any man.

Chakotay. He was the breath of her life. Without him she would be half alive. With him, she would be a complete woman. She wanted that, she got that. It was something she had recognised the moment she had laid eyes on him. Now, almost eighteen months later, she could not imagine a day without him. Even while he was away, or while they were both on missions into deep space, she had always felt that connection. It was there not only in the weekly subspace communications, but every day when they were spiritually connected as well. In that respect, her visit to Dorvan V had done more than just introduce Chakotay's family to her. It inspired in her too, a spiritual sense, something she had always been sceptical of, always finding answers in science. Quantum mechanics was exact - she could pit her brain against strange anomalies and still come up with a solution. The transcendental, the spiritual, the meditative - they were elusive qualities with improbabilities that only since her visit to Chakotay's homeworld she had become more sensitive to.

Perhaps that was why she missed him a little today. Even as a child when she had been disappointed so many times by an absent father who not only forgot her birthday, but tried to make up afterwards by pawning trivial gifts off to her. Trivial because they were not given out of a sense of love and sharing and wanting to see her eyes light up, but because it had become a chore. Chakotay missed her birthday last year. He had still been somewhere in Federation space on his way home that time. They had been close even then, although he had been unable to share her day with her.

"Don't worry, Chakotay. There'll be a 20 May next year," she said cheerily last year. He had had a doleful look on his face then, one that she wanted to change into a smile quickly. She couldn't bear to see that look on his face.

Now, today, on her thirty seventh birthday, he was not going to be here. She didn't feel extreme sadness or disappointment. He had a job, a duty which came first right now. Kathryn gave a small smile. He had been secretive about her gift, said that it was in his drawer at home in San Francisco. The bottom drawer that he had been forced to take after she appropriated the two top ones, had been a little goldmine of little collectibles. She never rifled though his things although he had given her carte blanche. Still, she never knew what he would come up next. There was something there in an oblong box that had been there since they married. He must have had it for a very long time. Perhaps it was a family heirloom or something. She sensed that some way or another, Chakotay would get her gift to her today. She loved surprises…

She gave a sigh. After breakfast - it consisted of coffee and toast - she had been wished by her mother who had given her a batik scarf and Phoebe had given her the painting she had completed after Chakotay's last visit to Indiana. It was a beautiful painting. Two figures sat under a tree in the long grass. The woman wore a wide brimmed hat and her head was close to the man's head, as if they were deep in conversation. Although their faces were not recognisable, it was unmistakably Kathryn and Chakotay. Recognition lay in the body language of the two figures - something Phoebe had drawn to perfection. Kathryn, petit, yet possessing an inner strength that could be seen in the way her head was cocked to listen to the man. Also the position of the woman's hands - they were gesturing in a way that appeared self-confident, as if she were drumming home a point. The figure of Chakotay as the man was so Chakotay that it brought tears in Kathryn's eyes. Chakotay was the listener. He was a brilliant listener; it could be seen by the way he sat, just so that he could turn his head to hear the woman speak of deep devotion to the man.

Kathryn missed Chakotay today. Communication was difficult; he would probably send her a subspace message later today. That cheered her up. She was thirty seven - on the wrong side of the thirties was what Phoebe liked to remind her of, or what Dalene always said: "Honey, it's the best years of your life. Live it!"

Kathryn turned when someone appeared in the doorway. At sixty three Gretchen Janeway could still turn men's heads. It was a wonder Adam Ponsonby was holding out so long…

"Kathryn, are you coming in?" Gretchen asked. "You've been sitting there all morning."

"I'm enjoying the good weather," replied Kathryn.

Gretchen joined Kathryn on the seat. "You miss him."

Kathryn remained quiet for several minutes, staring at the large oak at the end of the lawn where she and Chakotay sat last year. A little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Phoebe had caught not so much the view but the ambience in her painting. Kathryn turned to look at her mother. The book lay loosely on her lap now; Ann Elliot and her Frederick Wentworth for the moment forgotten.

"I miss him."

"But he has a duty."

"I know..."

"Kathryn... I know you never really talked about it - to me, at least - but I understand that you miss Chakotay, especially today. Honey..." Gretchen paused when Kathryn wanted to turn away from her. The gentle touch on her shoulder held Kathryn back and she relaxed back against the seat. "Your father was mostly absent for your milestones, Kathryn. You took it harder than Phoebe, you know. You were his daughter before Phoebe arrived on the scene..."

"Mom, hindsight is something terrible," Kathryn countered. "I understand now that duty to his work, Starfleet, the Federation kept him away for such long periods. It's only - " Kathryn paused abruptly then looked away.

"Now that you're yourself in Starfleet and seeing how men like Roger Petranoff and Sergei Karkoff deal with their absences from home and family - "

"And how their families deal with the prolonged absences of their husbands and fathers..."

"So, you understand."

"I know he's not forgotten, Mom. Chakotay... I've known for a while he wouldn't be here." Kathryn gave a little smile. "He felt so bad about it, Mom... He couldn't sleep!"

"That was your father, Kathryn. I know you feel differently about him now and understand. I know you've made up and became very close again. Remember, Chakotay is only now experiencing the real value of family, too." Kathryn nodded.

"Well, some visitors will be here this afternoon, and I know Chakotay will send me a birthday message. I'll demote him if he doesn't!" Kathryn threatened with glint in her eyes.

"Thank goodness! If he doesn't, I'll not do the mopping up - "

"Mother!"

******

She had received good wishes from Mark Johnson who sent a subspace message from Atoll Prime where they were busy with negotiations with the planet's neighbouring world. Mark had been succinct in his message and although it left her a little deflated, she was glad that he did manage to call her. They were still friends, good friends even, but she doubted whether they would be on the footing again she had enjoyed with him before her marriage. Mark still loved her, she knew, but he was a sensible man, He would respectfully keep his distance, even if she told him it's okay if they joined for a meal at Headquarters restaurant in Chakotay's absence. Dalene had called from San Francisco to wish her and demanded her matron of honour be ready to help her next month when it was her wedding. Kathryn had been bubbling, because Chakotay would be home then and they'd both be able to attend the wedding. Maris and Eugenie were Dalene's flower girls.

"I want the works, Kath. It's going to be my one and only wedding!"

Kathryn was in high spirits, and even trying to get the quiet Admiral Ponsonby, given to pedantic outbursts at times, to lighten up a little bit, didn't dampen her spirits. She was feeling good, and the floating sensation she had all day she put down to her increased excitement at feeling again like a child receiving gifts and the world was fine. Gretchen Janeway had said curtly, "You're not suffering from vertigo, Kathryn."

Their visitors had arrived in their own transports on their farm, so it was with a little surprise that the party looked up where they had been sitting at tables on the lawn just outside the front porch, when a Federation shuttle touched down on the launch pad about a hundred metres away.

"Strange," said Ponsonby.

"Not. It's a delivery vehicle," replied Gretchen Janeway. "An official delivery vehicle."

Already Kathryn felt a wild excitement. Maybe this was from Chakotay. She watched in the distance as two persons exited the shuttle.

"Well, Kathryn, it seems your gift has arrived," offered Phoebe.

"It certainly seems like it. It's not _my_ birthday..." said Gretchen.

"Her young man has thought of her," Adam Ponsonby said.

"Adam, compared to your ripe old age of seventy seven - "

"I'm seventy - "

"As I said, seventy seven. Chakotay is probably a young man. But Adam, you could say her _husband_ has thought of her..."

"Well, I daresay he is her husband, but surely he is also her - "

"Soul mate, friend, _lover_?"

"Halt it, you two," Phoebe interrupted, and her hand went to that of the person who had been sitting quietly next to her at the white table. Rodea's eyes were laughing eyes, but they rested warmly on Phoebe. She squeezed Phoebe's hand and Phoebe's light grey eyes lit up. Kathryn meanwhile, rose from her chair as the men approached the table. Her eyes remained fixed on the large box…

"Kathryn Janeway?"

"Yes?" She smiled at them, her eyes still riveted to the carrier.

"I'm Lieutenant Shakur. We've been asked to deliver this." Shakur put the box down and bent to open a small hatch. They could see something moving to come out..

"Oh!" exclaimed Kathryn, her cry followed by the others who rose and joined Kathryn.

A small deep bronze to almost red pup clambered out, momentarily disoriented as it started yelping. It was an Irish setter pup, its long ears flapping and tail wagging as Kathryn also bent down to scoop it into her arms.

"Oh, how very cute!" she said as the dog starting wriggling excitedly, licking her face with great enthusiasm. Kathryn looked at Shakur and his partner, her eyes shining. The pup had to be Chakotay's gift to her.

"Captain Janeway?" Shakur's partner called.

"Yes?" She gave him her broadest smile, the puppy had stopped whining and snuggled against her, its head nuzzling her neck.

"Commander Chakotay also sent you this message." He held the PADD to her. "It was relayed to Headquarters, encrypted," he explained. "Commander Chakotay assured us you are in possession of his codes."

"Yes…yes, I am. Thank you," Kathryn said as she took the PADD from him.

"You're welcome, Captain Janeway. And may we say: A happy birthday to you."

Did they actually salute her? She was ecstatic with happiness, unable to absorb much of the surprise of Chakotay's gift.

Kathryn stroked the pup which looked to her to be about ten weeks old. Chakotay's message would probably explain a few things as well. The puppy nuzzled contently against her. She looked happily at the two men as they appeared to click their heels. Then they turned to leave again.

"Well, Kathryn?" Gretchen Janeway said as the men left in their shuttle and Kathryn was still standing a little nonplussed as the shuttle lifted off. "I do believe this very cute little setter has come as a complete surprise to you. She looks like quite a lady."

"Chakotay chose well," Phoebe said laughingly. "She has your red hair, Kathryn!"

"Nonsense. Kathryn's hair is not red, its...golden bronze."

"A fiery one," Adam Ponsonby's voice sounded.

"Certainly like her mistress."

"What are you going to name her, Kathryn?"

"Morag."

"Oh Phoebe, the dog is Irish."

"So what?"

"Don't you dare insult your heritage by naming a clearly Irish dog after a Scot."

Kathryn turned to face her mother whose eyes twinkled with amusement. She looked for a few seconds at her mother, unable to figure why Gretchen Janeway suddenly walked away from her. Kathryn held the puppy closer, blinked again. The figures of the others also started to recede as she tried desperately to focus. What were they talking about? Where were they going?

"Mom..."

"Kathryn?" She felt her hand becoming lifeless and the PADD slipping from it.

"I'm s-sorry... I'm not - "

"Kathryn!"

Kathryn felt the darkness swallow her even as hands groped quickly to prevent her from falling and sinking down...down...down...

***

END CHAPTER THIRTEEN **  
**

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK TWO: TEARS

* * *

**BOOK TWO: TEARS**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**  

Gretchen Janeway had always thought Kathryn to be so much like her father. They were strange anomalies, stars in the firmament that appeared distant, yet warm. The warmth though, was sometimes hidden beneath the aloofness, the extreme sense of duty that kept them on the go, always curious, always exploring. They were scientists, exact in their assumptions, summations and conclusions. Yet, both possessed - perhaps Kathryn even more than Edward - a quality of humour, of quirkiness that was seen in situations that called for the handling of such characteristics. Kathryn was not a secretive person, but it seemed that since her promotion to Captain, she had become more driven, not only in her work, but in her personal life, so that what outsiders saw, was mostly Captain Kathryn Janeway. Gretchen wondered how Chakotay viewed his wife's promotion to Captain. Then again, her dear Edward had been a different man in the privacy of their home, a much more softer, gentler being, and definitely more intimate. Kathryn would never be anything but a woman with Chakotay in the privacy of their home. What she projected to her crew, was the Captain who had to maintain discipline and unity.

Kathryn took her miscarriage almost as a personal affront. She succeeded in everything, excelled at most things, even the most challenging. Indeed, such challenges were all the more attractive and intriguing, the more they appeared out of reach or appeared impossible. Did this bode ill for her person, given that she took the loss of their baby so hard? Gretchen thought personally that Kathryn had dealt with her trauma better because she had the right man as her partner.

Kathryn lay sleeping. It was late afternoon and her dead faint had given them all a fright. Kathryn had never fainted in her life, and to see how her eyes suddenly became glazed and how pale she suddenly became… Even now, her face looked ashen, the absence of lipstick heightening the air of fragility. Adam had caught her just in time and carried her here to the room with a barking puppy hot on their trail. Gretchen smiled as she watched Kathryn sleeping. Before Kathryn was born she herself had also suffered a miscarriage, but life went on; she wasn't going to sit around mourning forever. She knew there would be other babies, and she had been positive that within a year she'd fall pregnant again. As it happened, exactly a year later she had fallen pregnant with Kathryn.

Chakotay loved Kathryn more than what Gretchen believed Justin had loved her. Perhaps that thought needed some qualification. Chakotay and Kathryn's love was much deeper, filled with so much texture, depth and tones - more than what Kathryn and Justin had together. Kathryn had almost fallen apart when Justin died. How would she take the loss of Chakotay? Kathryn did everything with an intensity that was frightening. She loved with the same intensity.

 There was a little whimper, the sound coming from the door. It was Kathryn's new puppy that Chakotay had given her. Gretchen scooped the dog in her arms and cuddled it. Her eyes stole to the PADD that lay on the bed stand. Kathryn had yet to read Chakotay's message. She smiled again to herself when she thought how the dog had become so agitated that they had to bring her in the house with Kathryn. Later Phoebe had taken the pup, declaring her to be still untrained in the ways of the house and that the job of cleaning up after her she'd pass on to Kathryn. It was after all Kathryn's dog. She declared, too, that the dog must have sensed Kathryn was to be its mistress because puppy as she still was, she actually growled when Adam, Phoebe and Rodea tried to enter Kathryn's room. Rodea was not too fazed by the pup's behaviour. _She_ stated roundly that her own boxer, MaoSeDung, was just as attached to her and that Phoebe had to talk her way around Mao to get to Rodea.

 Kathryn started moving and Gretchen was glad. She was waking up at last. Kathryn's collapse was partly due to her tiredness and stress and the fact that without ever saying so, she missed her husband. Kathryn's attachment to Chakotay was touching, and so at variance with the strong, independent and thoroughly tough Captain who commanded the USS Crimond.

 "W-what happened?" Kathryn asked as she opened her eyes and the puppy jumped in her arms. She immediately started licking Kathryn's face, giving little whimpers, with a tail that wagged excitedly. Kathryn held the puppy still frowned as she waited for her mother to reply.

 Gretchen gave her a beatific smile, took the dog from Kathryn again, risked being bitten by the dog who clearly didn't want to be separated from her brand new mistress. She wanted to laugh at the expression on Kathryn's face.

 "Kathryn, you sure as hell didn't suffer vertigo."

 "Vertigo? Why would I have vertigo?"

 "You're pregnant, sweetie. Vertigo was not responsible for your condition."

 "I - I'm pregnant?"

 "I'm pretty certain. I've already called Elizabeth that you'll be seeing her tomorrow morning."

 "I'm pregnant?" Kathryn asked again, falling back against the pillows.

 "Well, someone in this room is, honey. It's not the dog without a lady name, or _me_ , heaven forbid."

 Gretchen studied her elder daughter and would have felt sorry for Kathryn if she didn't love her so much and was still able to look at her objectively. Kathryn was sounding like a subspace beacon gone on the blink. Gretchen could see how Kathryn was turning over the possibility in her head, how her mind worked to assimilate that possibility. Shadow and light seemed to flit across her eyes, and the exact moment when the truth hit home, Gretchen Janeway thought, was an image she wanted to preserve for the rest of her life. Kathryn's eyes glowed, warmed, misted over and when the first tear rolled down her cheek, all Gretchen wanted to do was to hug her daughter who seemed strangely enough, so like a little girl in these moments. The dog had scampered off her lap and made herself comfortable next to Kathryn.

 "Oh, Kathryn, I'm so happy for you..."

 Kathryn trembled in her embrace, but she remained quiet. When Gretchen sat back again, she said intuitively: "You're afraid."

 Kathryn stroked the dog; her face became tender at some happy thought.

 "I'll be fine, Mother."

 "Good. I'll leave you now.... Hey, sweetie, you're coming with?" she directed her question at the pup who remained resolute; Gretchen imagined she heard a growl as she got up to leave.

 When she came outside, Phoebe and Rodea had gone off somewhere, and Adam Ponsonby was still sitting at a small white table. He rose immediately and pulled out a chair for her. When she sat down, he asked:

 "Well?"

 "Well, Adam, Kathryn is happily assimilating the fact that she's pregnant."

 His dark eyes rested kindly on her as he put his hand over hers on the table. Gretchen's heart thumped for a few seconds. The man was devastatingly handsome, didn't he know that? He could still have won the hearts of many younger women, but she felt privileged. Like Kathryn, like Chakotay, and like many, many men and women through the years, she had been given the divine gift of loving again. He'll never be Edward Janeway, but she didn't want him to be. He was so unique, so different and so achingly dear to her; she loved him on those terms. Perhaps she could appreciate the loving, the devotion, the absolute faith he had in her, more than she did before.

 "Are we going to tell her?"

 "Adam! My little girl is having a baby, one she's wanted for a long time. Chakotay has sworn it will be a girl this time - "

 "This time?"

 "Didn't you know? Kathryn suffered a miscarriage last December."

 "Oh."

 "But we will tell her about us - "

 "Dear, I think everyone knows about us."

 She glared at him, mutinous that he was denying her the enjoyment of meandering into the prospect of babies and diapers.

 "You'll have to ask her, you know."

 "Why?"

 "Why, I have no parents, Adam. Not that young people these days ask their parents or get their blessings. So my daughters will happily oblige. But Adam dear, I'd like to know I have Kathryn and Phoebe's blessing."

 "You know, Gretchen, we'll still marry, won't we?"

 How could she not respond to that challenge? What was he doing? He wanted to blackmail her, that's what. He didn't even know how arrogantly self-assured he sounded. But she'll get him. Marriage to Adam Ponsonby...

 Gretchen Janeway gave a sigh as she leaned forward to peck him on the cheek. A steely glint entered her eyes.

 "Well?" he asked again, refusing to stand down as he too glared at her. When he smiled, her heart soared again.

 "Naturally."

 ****

 Pregnant.

 Hannah.

 She knew it now as surely as if Dr Paris herself told her it was so. Why did she miss so many signs? The slight heady feeling she had all day and indeed that had been there in the past two weeks, should have given her some indication. She had had a period and the irregular flow had not alerted her. She knew that there were some women who menstruated during the first months of their pregnancy.

 Her mother had just left the room and Ceara, bless her puppy heart, had fallen asleep.

 "Ceara..." Kathryn whispered softly as she stroked the pup's gleaming bronze coat. "Yes, that shall be your name..."

 She gave a deep sigh as her hand stole to her belly and rested tenderly there.

 A baby. They were going to have a baby. Kathryn's eyes filled with tears again. She missed Chakotay, she missed him so much. Now he didn't know they were going to have a child. She wished he had been with her. Her eyes stole to her dresser where she spotted the PADD. It had slipped from her hand when she fainted on the front lawn.

 Reaching for it with a racing heart, she smiled for the first time as she entered the codes. She wondered when Chakotay had found the time to do this, but she was sentimental and ecstatic enough to be completely surprised by his gift. Her eyes stole quickly to Ceara who snored softly and Kathryn grinned.

 "Just like Chakotay. I've got to tell him the dog takes after him..."

 When the opening message flashed on the screen, Kathryn started reading, her heart beating wildly. One hand held the PADD, the other covering the locket protectively.

  _"My darling Kathryn._

_I won't ask how you liked your gift. I know you'll just love her to pieces like you love me. It's May 20th again, and because I wasn't quite with you on your birthday last year, I have finally accepted that I couldn't be with you this year as well. So now I'll wish you a double wish for your birthday, and I hope you'll be doubly blessed._

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered in a husky voice, "you don't know how true your words are. I am doubly blessed. I'm pregnant with Hannah, Chakotay..." Her eyes misted over as she continued reading.

  _"It was touch and go getting the right gift for you, Kathryn. I'm not going to bore you with how touch and go it was. Suffice to say, Headquarters thought us important enough to do me this favour of delivering your gift._

_She's beautiful, isn't she?_

"She certainly is," Kathryn agreed softly, releasing the locket to stroke the dog's coat again.

 "Well, if you ask me how I know that, then I'll tell you. There was this catalogue, see? And I was looking at all these holovids of dogs and puppies and when I saw her, I knew that was the one I wanted to give you. It's Irish, but then I don't need to tell you that, do I? Then I looked into some old database files, and I want to ask you: Have you named her Ceara?

"Oh, my God," Kathryn exclaimed in wonder, "how on earth did he know...?" She looked at the dog again. "I did name her Ceara, Chakotay. Are you psychic, my love?"

  _I guess you did, huh. Her name means fiery red. Just like my own Kathryn! Fiery, petit, beautiful... Did I tell you how much I love you, sweet Kathryn?_

 "Only about a thousand times..."

  _Well, now that you have your little pup - I thought of all the pups I saw, she showed the most spunk. She was smaller than the other pups, did you know. But Ceara looked so fierce and courageous and beautiful at the same time. She will protect you, honey. I just know that._

 "Right again, Chakotay. I just heard from my mother she wouldn't let the others near me after I fainted. Maybe she'll even protect me against my own husband. You know how some dog breeds are..."

  _I hope to be back by the end of the month, Kathryn, as soon as all the talks on Dorvan V have been concluded. Don't worry so much about sending me any subspace communication. I don't want our communications to be hijacked, is that okay with you sweetheart?_

"But you must know about the baby, Chakotay. I'll be on the Crimond next week," she spoke again softly.

  _Do you miss me as much as I miss you, my love? I can't tell you how much I long to feel you in my arms again, lying next to you when the moonlight is streaming into the room, just talking to you. I miss that._

_My heart is yours, always, Kathryn_

**Chakotay**

"I miss you too, so much, Chakotay. My heart is yours..."

 Kathryn wiped the tears from her cheeks. She saved Chakotay's message again and encrypted it. She had a dog now entirely dependent on her. She gave a little sigh. Ceara will have to stay here, in Indiana while her mistress was away. She patted the pup's head, already loving her dog so much. Chakotay had such a connection with her she still found it almost disconcerting at times. How did he know she liked Irish setters? How did he know she would name it Ceara?

 Fiery red.

 Kathryn rose from the bed and lifted the sleeping pup. She'd have to sleep in her box tonight until they could get her a sleeping basket. She'd have to be house-trained... Kathryn could see how busy she was going to get, what with commanding a starship, raising a beautiful little girl who'll have her daddy's dimples and black hair, and caring for a red setter. But mostly, she was looking forward to be a mother, for she had a certainty, an absolute conviction that this time, she'll have her baby.

 Her life at that moment, Kathryn decided, was complete.

 ***

 Karen sat up on the biobed after Elizabeth Paris had completed her examination.

 "Well, Doctor?"

 "Baby should be due late December, Kathryn."

 "I thought she would - "

 "I haven't yet said anything about baby being a "she" Kathryn Janeway. Are you psychic?"

 "No, Doctor Paris. It's just that I know."

 Elizabeth Paris gave the kind of sigh that made Kathryn think Elizabeth was long past the point of being surprised by her patients' self-assurance and knowledge as to the sex of their unborn child.

 "Then fine. A girl it is, Kathryn. I'm sure Chakotay will be very pleased."

 "He will be, Doctor," replied Kathryn as she stood up and smoothed down her pants, and then patted her hair into place again. "He's been so certain this will be a girl, even before - " Kathryn paused, not certain how to put it delicately. But Elizabeth Paris was not to be underestimated.

 "Oh, before there was even any sign of a fertilised egg?"

 Kathryn had no time to blush. Doctor Paris was her physician while she was on Earth, and all her medical particulars would be forwarded to Doctor Benaren on the Crimond. So, she nodded and waited for Elizabeth Paris to give her something for the very slight lingering nausea she experienced. She was lucky. She had not had the kind of violent morning sickness Svetlana had with her second baby.

 "You'd think it would be all over after you've had you first child," she had complained to Kathryn when she and Chakotay visited them soon after the birth of Irina.

 Yes, she counted herself lucky.

 "And, Kathryn, go very, very easy on the coffee, will you? In fact, why don't you give it up altogether?" Dr Paris suggested, to which Kathryn's eyes went very wide with outrage.

 "What? Me, give up coffee?"

 "You need to rest as much as you can, Captain Janeway," Elizabeth said, using Kathryn's rank deliberately. The doctor sounded suddenly efficient and pure doctor. "No matter that it's caffeine free, Captain, it's still bound to make you too active. Baby needs to sleep too. Play her some music, paint, just...go easy. We're just being very careful. You do understand that, don't you?"

 Kathryn nodded again. She looked for long seconds at the doctor with a query in her eyes. She felt strangely embarrassed. But Elizabeth Paris had sensed her apprehension.

 "It's alright for sexual intercourse, Kathryn. As long as you're careful..."

 Kathryn closed her eyes for a second and nodded. When she opened them again, Elizabeth started kindly at her.

 "Thank you, Doctor."

 "You're welcome, Kathryn. You'll be back in San Francisco for your confinement, but I'm forwarding your files to Doctor Benaren. You're to have a monthly check-up for the next few months - "

 "Late December, you said?" Kathryn asked suddenly.

 When Elizabeth confirmed, Kathryn asked again:

 "Christmas?"

 "Most likely, Kathryn. Most likely."

 "Well, Doctor, I'm on the Crimond in a few days. Well be in Sector 450 - "

 "Sector 450?"

 "Yes," Kathryn replied with a frown. "Why? Is there anything wrong?"

 Elizabeth Paris stared at Kathryn, her light brown eyes darkening suddenly with what Kathryn thought was concern, worry. Kathryn thought how moments ago, in her official capacity, Elizabeth Paris had been the efficient doctor. Now, she was a woman whose face suddenly became more creased.

 "Tom - you know Tom, my son - "

 Kathryn nodded. Tom was a young lieutenant, a brilliant helmsman for whom no ship presented a challenge when it came to piloting it.

 "He - he is stationed at Caldik Prime."

 "I...see," said Kathryn. Then on a sudden impulse she asked: "Would you like me to relay a message for you?"

 There was gratitude in her eyes. Kathryn thought Tom Paris almost didn't deserve such loving parents. But she knew his father. She had been the protégé of the toughest taskmaster in all of Starfleet. Tom, she surmised, was to him not a beloved son, but an Academy cadet, a young ensign, a lieutenant who deserved the very same brand of astringent discipline the Admiral meted out to every other cadet, ensign and command track officer. She was certain Admiral Paris loved his son, but Tom must have carried too heavy a burden of being an admiral's son. That could be forgiven still, overlooked even, but he was not just an admiral's son. He was the son of Admiral Paris. That label alone, was something Tom Paris must have found unbearable. She had heard of his exploits and rebellion...

 "I'll be leaving tomorrow for McKinley Station. Could I come by and collect the message?"

 "I'd be very grateful, Kathryn. Tom...he's not such a bad sort, you know..."

 "I know. I understand, Doctor. See you then."

 ***

 "Let me guess. You're pregnant."

 Dalene Petranoff sat opposite her at their favourite table at the Headquarters restaurant and poked her fork at her. The piece of salad she had lifted dangled precariously on the edge of the tines until it fell off.

 "Put your fork down, Dalene. Your salad is objecting. But yes, for your information, I am. I've seen Doctor Paris and I'm in good health."

 Kathryn couldn't keep from smiling. She hadn't told anyone aside from her family and Doctor Paris, and wanted to cherish the knowledge a little longer. But Dalene was Dalene. She either took an educated guess based on certain deductive powers, or she operated on pure instinct. Dalene's expression was something else when Kathryn smiled. Her eyes went warm, tinged with something like envy and Kathryn knew that Dalene was finally accepting the idea of being a happily married woman who would like to have children. Already Maris and Pennina loved her, and the interaction between them was touching.

 "So, when's baby due?"

 "Around Christmas."

 "Wow, how did you plan that?"

 This time it was Kathryn's salad that tipped off the edge of her fork when she almost choked.

 "You know, Dalene, come to think of it, it wasn't planned that Hannah would be due Christmas -"

 "But she's obviously wanted. Oh hell, it's not even necessary to say that. Congrats, Kath. I can see you already love your baby. So, are you going to let Chakotay know immediately, or wait till he comes home?"

 "I've been thinking about that. He hasn't wanted me to make any subspace communication for security reasons, you understand?"

 "Yeah, I can just picture it. _Commander Chakotay, you're wanted in the office. There's a message from your wife_. All this while he's in consultation with Captain Picard of all people."

 Kathryn laughed at the mental picture Dalene conjured up for her.

 "Well, I'll think of some way to get the news to him. He's got to know before your wedding…"

 "And you're not going to tell me, huh."

 "No, I'm not. Leave some part of my life for me, Day!"

 "Okay, okay, Matron."

 "Matron!"

 Kathryn's voice sounded so outraged that Dalene burst out laughing. Kathryn joined in finally, giving in to her friend's mirth. She was going to be matron of honour after all. But matron sounded so… _matronly_ … She wasn't old or a blue stocking. Anything but. She _was_ the Captain of a starship.

 "Well, Kathryn, when I see you again, it will be just before my wedding. Have a very fruitful journey to Sector 450."

 "Thanks, Day. I'm leaving tomorrow for McKinley Station. See you at the wedding, then!"

 They parted and Kathryn felt a little sadness at leaving Dalene. She was going to miss Dalene's company. When she left the restaurant, she'd make her way to Starfleet Medical to collect the message Doctor Paris had prepared for Tom. Now, with a baby on the way, they'd have to do a lot of rescheduling, but as soon as Chakotay was home, they'd sit down and plot a course for the Janeway-Chakotay home for the next few months. Who knows, maybe even for the next year… Another little thrill coursed through her. A baby at Christmas...how blessed could they be?"

 Kathryn gave a sigh as her hand went unconsciously to her stomach.

 "Oh, Chakotay, you don't know what precious cargo I'm carrying," she whispered.

 ****

  **On the USS Crimond…**

Commander Eamon Daley, First Officer of the USS Crimond, wondered what Captain Janeway wanted to discuss with him as he made his way from Engineering to the captain's ready room. He had been in consultation with the Chief Engineer, Lieutenant-Commander Joe Carey, a staid, if thorough man when he received the Captain's hail.

 He admired Captain Janeway. They had both Irish blood, didn't they? Come to think of it, Joe Carey had Irish roots as well. Still, Eamon thought Kathryn Janeway to be a tough Captain, one of the toughest officers he had served with. Perhaps it was that red mane of hers, though Eamon was certain that the Captain herself would argue about the precise colour of her hair. He had known the Captain's husband, though not very well. It was Commander Chakotay's reputation as an equally tough and uncompromising officer that had made him known amongst Starfleet personnel as The Angry Warrior. Eamon wondered whether Captain Janeway was aware that they called Commander Chakotay that. It was a designation that sat well with him. They had heard how tough he had been with senior cadets during their Advanced Tactical Training semester. One hapless cadet had been warned:

 "Don't try your luck with that maneuver, Henderson. You're a dead man." The Commander had been blistering, according to reports, when Cadet Armstrong had botched the maneuver, endangering the lives of the other five cadets who participated in the maneuver. Even though it was a simulation, the Commander's face had looked angry, his eyes shot daggers and his voice dripped venom. That, according to Armstrong who was now serving on another vessel. These reports had come to him - although he was not a man normally given to listening to rumours - via other cadets.

 "Does he ever relax, Commander?" Ensign Clopart asked.

 "I suggest you keep out of his way, Ensign."

 "Thank you, Commander."

 Chakotay's short visit when the Captain had been on a three day leave which she had elected to take on board the Crimond, was not enough to get to know the Commander really well. They made a very attractive couple as word went around the ship. Young ensigns and junior officers appeared to drool and some had even asked him whether it was fair that Captains of starships usually ended up with such attractive partners. Was it something about being born into Starfleet aristocracy? He couldn't answer to that except to tell them to keep their private thoughts private.

 They had not seen much of Commander Chakotay anyway the three days he had been on the Crimond to be with his wife. The couple had been cloistered most of the time in the Captain's quarters and gossip had been rife on board. All he could say was: "They have they right, don't they?"

 One of the junior officers who had been on Gamma shift that first night when Commander Chakotay arrived, reported in a breathless kind of voice that he had seen the Captain and her husband make their way to the holodecks in the dead of night and that he had heard - from another source - that they were playing Velocity. Not only that, that Captain Janeway had beaten her husband soundly that night. Eamon was accustomed to the ship's rumour mill that always seemed to work overtime whenever it concerned such a high profile officer as Captain Janeway and her husband. He didn’t want to know how they knew the Captain had beaten her husband, and certainly, it must have been someone on board who overheard a conversation between their Captain and Commander Chakotay.

 "And did you know what she said?"

 "No, help me out here."

 "For losing, Chakotay, you are due payment."

 "Which I'm happy to settle, sweet Kathryn."

 The unrepentant ensign - he had been dressed down by Eamon - stuck to her guns, and while she spoke, her eyes had gone all shiny and twinkling, as if discussing the Captain and her husband was the most exciting thing to do on board the USS Crimond.

 Eamon sighed. The Captain and Commander Chakotay were deeply in love. They didn't have to say much in his presence that one or two times they had had dinner in the Captain's private dining room. It was in their gestures, the looks, the warmth that radiated from them. He had been struck by how protective Commander Chakotay was, attentive to her needs. Kathryn Janeway blossomed in her husband's attentions. Eamon had known that both of them had had previous partners with whom they had been very close, but that had been long ago.

 Naturally, the ship had been agog at how Captain Janeway had met her husband.

 "It's the romance of the century!" they exclaimed.

 "Imagine a blind date that led to a wedding!"

 "My Dad says they were the most beautiful couple at the Command Performance…"

 And so it went on.

 Well, he was on his way to the Captain who missed her husband, but whose eyes held a secret dream. He had seen that look in his own dear wife just before she told him she would bear their first born son. Therefore, exiting the turbolift on the bridge, he wondered what Captain Janeway wanted.

 Magnus Rollins had the bridge and Eamon nodded curtly, indicating he remain there. All eyes were on him as he stood at the door and pressed the chime.

 "Come".

 The Captain's voice sounded firm as she gave the command. Seconds later he stood at her desk where she was sitting, and for once, he saw her with a cup of tea. He wondered idly where the ubiquitous mug of coffee was.

 "You wanted to see me, Captain."

 "Commander," she started amicably, "sit down."

 When he was seated, she put the cup down, and her eyes went first to the framed photograph of her husband before she looked at Eamon again.

 "You're probably wondering why I called you from Engineering, Commander," she said.

 Eamon couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was, her hair tied in a ponytail. She gave him a quirky smile as she sat back in her chair and swung it a little.

 "It's not got to do with the Crimond, I take it?"

 "We'll be diverting from our course, Commander. I've already cleared with Starfleet Command."

 He nodded, knew that Captain Janeway could get most things right with Starfleet Command.

 "Where are we going, Captain?" he asked.

 "Sector 450," she said, leaning forward to tilt her vid-com so that he could see the chart.

 "Caldik Prime is in that Sector, Captain." His heart had a sudden burn when the Captain nodded approvingly. He continued: "Dorvan V is also in that Sector."

 "Good work, Commander."

 "My sister is stationed at Caldik Prime."

 "Oh? Well, I am communicating with Tom Paris tonight - "

 "They're on the same vessel there, Captain."

 "Small universe, isn't it?"

 "It certainly is, Captain. I take it you're going to Dorvan V?"

 Kathryn Janeway nodded.

 "If I may be so bold, Captain - "

 "Go ahead, Commander."

 "My dear wife, Naiose, had the same look."

 "The same look?" the Captain asked, looking a little stunned. He hoped she didn't think it effrontery on his part.

 "Just before she told me about the baby..."

 She blushed a little, and he watched how her eyes went to the picture of her husband again. When the Captain looked again at him, he couldn't help but keep the mirth from his eyes, and she responded with a smile that lit up her whole face.

 "Maybe I'll just say I noticed you're not drinking coffee anymore..."

 The Captain gave him a sheepish grin.

 "I'm having withdrawal symptoms."

 "Then I'm certain Commander Chakotay will be pleased." Eamon was having a wonderful time, talking like this, so freely in a relaxed manner with the Captain, and while he was on duty too. It was something he was going to share with Naoise as soon as they returned to Earth. Captain Janeway spoke again.

 "Commander Chakotay has never said anything, but he's been very good, never suggesting I lower my intake. Now, I'm just...careful."

 "I'm happy to hear that, Captain. I hope you enjoy your visit to Dorvan V."

 "It's a beautiful planet, Eamon. When you're there, it just does something to you, like calm your spirit. I thought I could spend a day or two on Dorvan V to apprise the Commander of the latest ...developments."

 I can understand that, Captain. It's not good sending a message, is it?"

 "I take it your wife had you running across the galaxy," she said.

 "I rushed from DS9 to Earth; I was in a real big hurry to be by her side - "

 "Now, Commander Chakotay...you understand?"

 "He's knee deep in talks."

 "That about sums it up, Eamon."

 Eamon felt that swell of pride when she called him by his name.

 "Commander Chakotay will be very happy to hear the good news, Captain..."

 "Yes, he certainly will. Er...Commander, this stays in this room."

 Eamon nodded severely. This was something he was privileged to hear from the Captain, not to be shared with the ship's gossip-mongers. It seemed that only Magnus Rollins and Joe Carey had their heads screwed on right and had their feet firmly on the ground, so to speak. Still, the Captain's news was confidential. It didn't matter that later when the inevitability of her condition made it impossible to hide, it would be apparent to all and sundry. Right now, that she was with child, as his great-grandmother used to say, was something she wanted to share with her husband first.

 "Naturally, Captain."

 "I will return in a few days. Meanwhile, you will take over as Acting Captain and all departments will report to you - "

 "Thank you, Captain. Will that be all?"

 "Yes. For now. I'll be taking a type 9 shuttle - "

 "Too slow, Captain. You're certain?"

 "No problem. I could use some slowing down."

 "Now there I agree with you, Captain."

 Eamon rose from his seat. The conversation was over. Tomorrow when he met with the Captain for last minute details, she would be all business-like. Her mood had been friendly and he warmed to that, not having known what to expect when he first came in.

 All eyes of the bridge crew were on him as he entered the bridge and made his way to the turbolift. He was coming on duty only later today and he relished the prospect of an hour in the holodeck. Later, he knew, they would ask him and he would be non-committal.

 He gave a sigh. For at least two days he would be Captain of the Crimond. It was something he could relay to dear Naiose.

 When the Captain returned from Dorvan V, in brilliant spirits after visiting her husband to tell him of their baby, he was certain that the euphoria of pending motherhood would remain with her for some time.

 It might even be better if Commander Chakotay returned with her.

 *****

  **END CHAPTER FOURTEEN**


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK TWO: TEARS

BOOK TWO: TEARS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

The natural vegetation of Dorvan V was a mine of information, thought Sub-commander Sedeka as she hiked up a rough trail situated in the heart of a canyon in the northern hemisphere. The dry river bed was overgrown with shrubs and short scrub. Near the entrance of the canyon there was a slow trickling of water, but as she moved in further, the dry heat persisted; it suited her - the heat and untamed feel of the area. The chaparral, as the inhabitants of Dorvan V called the succulent shrubs and scrub of the planet, grew in abundance here. She had not seen much of what she needed, but certain that she'd get it soon, she trudged along the paths and rough stones. She had veered away from the river bed and kept to the paths along the lower gradients of the sloping canyon walls. They were not really paths, just openings or gaps between bushes that allowed her to pause, use the Cardassian tricorder to take readings of the various indigenous plant species and move on to the next group of plants. 

It was relatively easy to get the combination that she needed, ironically, something that could not be manufactured back on Cardassia. Without a replicator - something the Federation boasted with - she had to rely on her own abilities as a scientist to analyse the plants she was looking for, or to be more precise, to find the correct combination of chemicals in the plant DNA for the purpose of her task. 

The heat of the sun was fierce, although it was still time before the sun was directly overhead. She was hot under the collar, and swore softly in Cardassian. They had to wear their armour at all times, even while they were in a situation of pending war. While the heat didn't bother her - all Cardassians were accustomed to temperatures of 50°C+ - it was the discomfort of moving about on foot in the severe, though cumbersome armour. 

Finally, she bent down to study a very small plant carefully. It had a tiny dull yellow flower, with only one decumbent leaf, its tip curling upwards. Sedeka had little time to find the appearance of the plant attractive, even as its aroma tickled her nostrils. 

"Ah... something at last for Sedeka to look at," she murmured softly as she pulled the plant out by its root. Breaking the succulent leaf, she held it so that she could take a reading. Little lights flashed and figures appeared on the screen of the tricorder. It seemed that the information was to her satisfaction, based on the information she had studied in the database from data she had hijacked from the Federation. She had not shown this to Gul Evek; he had no idea what she was going to do. He was satisfied she'd do it, whatever her method. 

"Good, this should do it, " she said as she nodded, satisfied with her finding so far. The plant leaf had a curious smell, like a beverage, she thought. It was not unlike some of the beverages she had seen or tasted in Quark's bar the last time she had been there. 

Several hours later she had collected a haul of plants, pleased that her search had gone better than she had anticipated. She hadn't thought to look on other worlds; besides, she doubted whether she would have gotten exactly what she needed in other places. She had heard - the locals were effusive and word had spread - that certain plants grew on Dorvan V that was endemic only to the northern hemisphere of the planet. 

The people had eyed her with a wariness which she supposed was natural, given her strangeness, but also the fact that her own people were already on Dorvan V to prepare the way for discussions with their leaders. Sedeka gave a snort. Afraid they should be. Very soon this would be their territory, but it would help if the people of Dorvan V left quietly. 

Sedeka surveyed the area and realised with a start how far into the canyon she had hiked. Knowing it would take her several hours to get back to the shelter and her shuttle, she started off briskly, the bag slung over her shoulder. She had not brought along much to eat, but there was a little stream further down near the entrance of the canyon. There she could have her fill of water. It was enough. She could go without solid sustenance for several more hours. It was almost dark, but her vision was good. When she got back to her camp site, she would rest only as long as it took her to shake off the tiredness - a short open eyed sleep of a few hours would be enough - and then start working on the plant extraction and analysis. Her shuttle was equipped with a small laboratory where she could work as soon as she was ready.. 

Gul Evek would be proud of her. She wondered how far he got with the talks. No doubt he didn't get very far. She knew he wanted to avoid open confrontation with the inhabitants, although he was ruthless enough to massacre the entire population. That would not be his style. He was far more underhand. The way of the Cardassians was to plunder, to destroy and subjugate by force to ensure loyalty and unity. Gul Evek was different. He would employ other methods far more devious, but less stressful on the phaser banks of their war ships. 

On that, she agreed grudgingly, she was in one mind with Gul Evek. Not that that little fact put him in any position to make the kind of claims on her to possess her mind. He already possessed her body; she was giving him nothing more. With her body she could, as she had done before, control Gul Evek, manipulate him in a way that filled him with fury, but at the same time he would be unable to mask his lust. 

Gul Evek wanted her. 

Gul Evek always wanted her. 

Sedeka smiled in the darkness as she made her way back to her shuttle. 

*** 

Captain Jean-Luc Picard's mission on Dorvan V was clear: his directive from Starfleet Command was to remove the inhabitants from Dorvan V by any means necessary. This machiavellian departure from humanistic ideals of the United Federation of Planets filled him with mild alarm, but given the aggression with which the Cardassian Union had extended its empire, Dorvan V was in trouble. If the Federation could not get its own people - Dorvan V was a member planet of the Federation and its people therefore Federation citizens - off the planet the Cardassians would massacre them. 

As it was, Dorvan V proved to be more than a handful in concluding the Treaty successfully. Their stubborn unwillingness to leave made it the only world still to be secured one way or the other to made the signing of the Treaty complete. The talks had developed to a point during the conference where it had been decided to establish a Demilitarised Zone, and Dorvan V fell just outside it, on the Cardassian Union's side. The Zone was to protect the Federation and Cardassians on either side, and while it was prudent that such an imaginary line drawn between the two warring factions of Cardassia and the Federation could be so described, it also ensured that no military activities should take place there, or no military bases established there. 

Unfortunately for the Federation, Dorvan V was the last obstacle in concluding the talks peacefully. The Federation could not secure Dorvan V during the talks and its citizens would have to be removed and settled elsewhere. He was all for removing them peacefully, and Commander Chakotay of the USS Ormskirk was to be instrumental in persuading their people to move and colonise elsewhere. Picard had sent out a team to scout other uninhabited worlds that closely resembled Dorvan V in its geographical, geomorphological and climatological features. He had found the Native American tribes uncooperative, since they were unwilling to leave what they called "our spiritual connection". He had no problem with that, but they needed to look at their precarious situation rationally. The Cardassians were never to be trifled with. Their methods of persuasion were notoriously horrific. Commander Chakotay could be instrumental changing the direction in these in these talks, perhaps even redirecting the borders of the Demilitarised Zone and without him, the tribe would be canon fodder for the opposition. 

The Council of Dorvan V had been implacable. To the Cardassians it made no difference one way or the other, but to the Federation it mattered. The tribes of Dorvan V were citizens and therefore under Federation protection. Picard had learned from history that some nations who pledged to guarantee the safety of prisoners of war and refugees under the signings of failsafe Conventions, were flagrantly disregarded. The Cardassians would sign the Treaty; the Federation had no guarantee that they would honour the terms of it. 

The USS Enterprise remained in orbit around the planet. They were wary of the Cardassian warship, the Vetar, under the command of Gul Evek. The Vetar remained an ominous, though not unbeatable presence. Shuttles had left and returned on a more or less regular basis from both the Enterprise and the Vetar. The only anomaly they had spotted so far was the presence of a shuttle of the Vetar in a remote canyon on the planet's northern hemisphere. Worf had informed him that the presence of the Cardassian vessel there posed no threat either to the inhabitants or Starfleet. 

"It's a research vessel, Captain," Lieutenant Worf informed him. 

"What type of research, Mr Worf?" 

"It's difficult to determine, but I suspect it’s a study of the ecology of the hemisphere, Captain." 

"Good. We'll keep a close watch on that shuttle then." 

"The planet has a high yield of medicinal plants, sir," Commander Riker said. 

"Ah. I understand, Number One." 

"The Cardassians are already marking the territory as theirs. It's a shame." 

"We hope Commander Chakotay can convince his people to relocate before they're all killed, Mr Riker." 

Riker sighed. He liked Chakotay, had heard the Native American had married someone he had himself been unable to date while at the Academy. Kathryn Janeway had been wary of him, and he had been a rather lustful Senior cadet who wanted to bed Kathryn Janeway. But, she successfully escaped his clutches and he was left to be the butt of some serious teasing by his fellow cadets for being turned down by the most beautiful young woman of the Academy that year. Yeah, he hoped Chakotay could get through to his people. They needed his presence and his rationale. He had his roots there, but he had also common sense and prudence. 

"Yes, sir. Let's hope so," Riker said finally. 

Picard sat back in his chair. In less than two days they would beam down to the planet to sit in on the talks with the Dorvan High Council, and he had prepared his argument as thoroughly as he could, pointing out the folly of remaining, and presenting them with sound alternatives which could not be overlooked. It was not one of his most pleasant tasks. He had always been a moderate man, not given to sudden acts of impulse, or to employ needless aggression. He believed that diplomacy should rule the universe and diplomacy was what he used in almost every single incident or mission he had been on during the last ten years. Most of his missions had been successful, most had led to peaceful talks and signings, and most had ended amicably. He thrived on the power of the word and the power of solid arguments, pitting his wits against the best the universe had to offer. 

He could not imagine that the Dorvans would not sway before his charm and ability to show them the error of their ways. Certainly, they could pull the rug from under the feet of the Cardassians by removing the tribe - peacefully - and find them a new colony. While he grudgingly had to admit that Gul Evek was prepared to sit down and talk and not let the Vetar's phaser banks speak for him, whatever his personal motivations were for talking, Picard was not fooled by them. 

*** 

Sub-commander Sedeka was impressed by Commander Chakotay. Through Gul Evek she had been introduced to the Native American who, though he was born on Dorvan V, seemed too modern to belong there. Still, he too, had the sense of belonging and spiritual connection with the planet the people of this world boasted of. 

Chakotay had a deep tan, like those of his fellow tribesmen and women, and by human standards was deemed to be handsome. They had been walking just outside the village along a dusty path that led to the shuttle launching pads. Although he was friendly, he had a slight air of mistrust about him as he walked next to her. His replies to her, especially questions pertaining to the talks were evasive if not downright negative. He was not giving her anything. Sedeka didn't need anything; she used what she was given, and even the smallest, seemingly unimportant little details relating to his personal life was information she stored and analysed to be used for later reference. Chakotay didn't know just how much he was telling her by telling her so little. 

He walked hands behind his back, like a prefect. The sun was behind them, and the man's hair gleamed. He didn't smile but she imagined if he did, there'd be a dimple in his left cheek. He turned to look at her as they walked. 

"So, you're the Executive Officer of the Vetar," Chakotay said conversationally. 

"If that means one rank below the commander of my vessel, then it's yes." 

He looked away again, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. He was clearly not interested in making more conversation than was necessary; he was not...interested. 

She bristled only mildly inside. Normally she would turn a man's head the moment he laid eyes on her, but Chakotay had been different. The first man who didn't give her a second look. To be honest, she admitted to herself, he didn't give her really a good first look. It was more that of making an acquaintance, meeting someone whose Commander or Gul was going to be in conference the next day, and killing time by showing her the sights of Dorvan V. She grinned inwardly. She had already seen the sights, but she was not going to tell him that. He had arrived five days ago, and he had been a little impatient with his people for not being far-sighted enough to know that they would lose their world to the Cardassians. To her it meant little, except that she could keep him company while he pined for his wife. He had told her about Kathryn Janeway and that it had been her birthday. He actually looked sorry that he could not be with her for such a joyous occasion. It didn't mean anything to her. One aged a year, and that was it. No celebrations were in order. To humans who were stupid enough to value it, so be it. 

"You mean to persuade your people to leave, Commander Chakotay?" she asked. 

"Much as I have come to love this place, a mere shift in the dividing lines between Cardassia and the Federation could alter the position of my people. It would perhaps be necessary for them to relinquish their citizenship should it come to that," he replied. 

Sedeka knew he was telling her details that were open, so there was no secrecy or unwillingness to enter into discussions with her. But Sedeka sensed that he was going to persuade the Delegations to redefine the borders of the Demilitarised Zone; it would put Dorvan V outside the control of Cardassia, even place Dorvan V on the Federation side of the proposed Demilitarised Zone. Her people were on it, fighting for control... 

But, it was something else about him that attracted Sub-commander Sedeka. 

For the first time, Gul Evek was not so prominent on her mind as the man who was walking next to her. Chakotay was handsome. She felt attracted to him, for some reason. She had to keep her head about her and not fail in her mission. While Chakotay could turn heads most likely, he was also married, and by the sound of it, very much in love with his wife. How quaint the idea of love and marriage had been to her before, when she thought physical and emotional unions could be separated, that there was a distinct difference between the two and that one did not rely on the other to effect a workable relationship. It never mattered to her. If a man wanted her, she'd make certain that he threw caution to the wind. 

Amongst the Cardassians she could take a man on any terms. 

Gul Evek was a man she could lust for and bed without second thoughts. She was abhail, was she not? She was not considered marriage material, even by Cardassian standards. Cardassian men were never above taking for themselves Bajoran slaves whores and mistresses, and spawning hybrid offspring with them, but even they expected their own women to maintain a certain level of decorum and aloofness when it came to the marriage bed. Sedeka had never had such noble considerations or aspirations. Men were men. They were usable and expendable. She was a highly sexual creature, used her assets to gain power over them and she never had to look far to satisfy her craving. 

"I've managed to procure some provisions for us, Commander," she said as they neared the dusty street where his home was situated. She had been exemplary in her behaviour towards Chakotay and other members of his tribe. Smiling, greeting, asking around and being offered help to her little queries about the place. On a certain level she managed to whittle down the mistrust of the people, but she had been clever enough when she though it prudent to get permission first for her field trips to the northern hemisphere to research the plant life and gather her own information about the medicinal properties of the herbs that grew in abundance there. Even Chakotay had been impressed. 

So, when he invited her to lunch in his abode, she readily accepted his offer. 

"Please, Commander, may I bring along something too, to share with you? There are some Cardassian delicacies I like." 

"I couldn't expect you to like roasted corn on the cob, Sub-commander," he said and he smiled for the first time. She had been correct. There was indeed a dimple in his left cheek and a smaller indentation in his right cheek. 

"Roasted corn?" 

"You might want to try it," he suggested. "Kathryn liked it - " 

"Your wife." 

"Yes. She is the Captain of the USS Crimond." 

Sedeka nodded. She didn't want to tell him that she already knew what he was telling her. 

"Didn't she like roasted corn?" 

"Not the unreplicated kind." 

"I...see..." she said reflectively. 

"Oh, we're here," Chakotay said, and he held his hand in a flourish as he indicated she enter. She had not seen many people around. Indeed, when she thought about it, she had not seen anyone around. Did they all suddenly take a nap in the afternoon? she wondered as she stepped into the cool lounge of Chakotay's home. 

"Thank you," she said demurely as she put her bag on the low table. 

"You're welcome, Sub-commander - " 

"Please, call me Sedeka." 

He stared at her for a second, then nodded. 

"Fine, Sedeka." A second later he left the room and she supposed he must have gone to the kitchen. She heard the noise of plates and utensils. Smiling, she took out her own fare for their dinner. She loved some of her own race's dishes, and the covered container was put down carefully on the table.   
She had also brought along two bottles of Cardassian wine, though she wasn't certain if Chakotay would like it. One was a very low in alcohol, used mostly when they sat down to meals to wash down their food. Humans, she had learned, did that with a beverage called beer. Sedeka shook her head. 

Humans. 

They all looked so pale, so uninteresting. Except Chakotay. There was something there that had drawn him to her. He seemed oblivious to his attraction. Most likely he was very comfortable and secure in the knowledge that he now had a wife who gave him everything and with whom he shared everything. His wife was beautiful, why should he look elsewhere? 

She smiled inwardly. Gul Evek would strip her naked in the middle of the road and have sex with her right there to drive home a point. He had that power; he could use it if she didn't succeed in her mission. She rose and walked to the window that overlooked the street. It was still deserted and quiet. Chakotay's abode was a little spartan, and only a medicine wheel adorned one wall. He had worn the clothing that she had seen the tribes people wear. He appeared relaxed, but she knew he wanted to get home to prepare for the talks and final agreements that would be signed the next day. 

"I see you've made yourself comfortable," Chakotay said as he entered the lounge again with a tray of food and drink. 

"Well, as I said, Commander, there are some things I do like to eat and I thought I'd bring some of it along." 

He gestured for her to sit down again. 

"Here, I think you could try this," he said as he held a plate to her. 

"Thank you," she said and took one roasted corn that had tiny skewers on each side. "Interesting," she said. 

"Yes, Kathryn was as surprised..." 

Kathryn. Wasn't the man ever going to stop talking about his wife? 

Sedeka took a bite of the corn and started chewing, almost experimentally rolling it in her mouth. When she swallowed, he looked at her as if he expected her to offer a commentary. She was no gourmet specialist, but it did taste...good, she supposed. 

"Interesting," she said. "Was this cooked or replicated?" 

"Replicator. My mother is the cook. Replicated food and drink is something I've become too accustomed to from my fifteenth year," he stated. 

"I see." She could see. It was just the touch of a button, a voice command and the item appeared. The Union could use replicators for the manufacture of certain arms and other equipment. Perhaps it was something that could be thrown on the bargaining table. 

They ate in silence. He poured for them drinks. 

"What is this?" she asked. 

"Cider. My favourite." 

She took a sip and nodded appreciatively. 

"I see you've brought some Cardassian wine, too." 

"I thought you might not like it, Commander, but this," and she held up one bottle, "is almost as light as your cider." Sedeka smiled as she took another sip of the cider. 

Chakotay had finished one corn and was biting into another. Sedeka poured for him some of her own wine and offered him the glass. "Taste..." 

When he took several sips, he responded with, "Hmmm, this is good. You were right, Sub-commander, it's very close to mine." He rolled his eyes as he enjoyed the bouquet of the wine. When he looked at her again, he smiled and said. "Very good. I'll certainly not try that," he continued as he pointed to her other bottle. "I can see it looks…aggressive." 

"And you shouldn't, Commander. It's the equivalent of Romulan Ale, but just about ten time more potent. We Cardassians are used to it. It will burn your gullet right down to your stomach lining. It's corrosive and definitely not for human consumption." Sedeka smiled at her own turn of phrase. "I mean it, Commander." 

"Thanks then for the warning," he said. 

"You're welcome." She gave him her sweetest smile. Her hair hung loose and fanned about her shoulders. She knew she looked good, she was supremely confident, but what she showed to Chakotay was a certain modesty, a demure presence she knew he respected. She congratulated herself on gaining Chakotay's trust. 

Chakotay raised his glass and Sedeka frowned momentarily before realisation dawned. She raised her glass too. 

"Well then, Sub-commander Sedeka, here's to successful talks tomorrow." 

"Indeed, Commander Chakotay," she agreed. "Indeed..." 

******* 

END [CHAPTER FIFTEEN]


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK TWO: TEARS

* * *

**BOOK TWO: TEARS**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**  

Kathryn was glad she had taken the Excalibur, a type 9 shuttle of the Crimond. It was traveling at a sedate warp 2; she had taken her medication for her nausea, refrained from giving in to the urge to replicate her good mug of coffee and had tea instead. Now she was feeling pleasantly lethargic. Her journey of eight hours could be happily spent reflecting on her life with Chakotay and the years ahead in which they would be parents to Hannah. That was her thought when she started out from the Crimond, and now, seven hours later, she was still in a lazy state. She engaged autopilot and was lying on her back on a bunk situated in the aft section of the Excalibur.

 In an hour she would reach the orbit of Dorvan V. Then she would meet with Chakotay and tell him the good news. She felt a little sheepish, knowing her action was sentimental, and not like many would expect the Captain of a starship, or more importantly, a woman of her age and sensibilities to behave. Very young married women who were still in the mostly starry-eyed-about-marriage stage would have done what she was doing. Here she was, rushing to her husband's side when another woman would have taken the news sagely, and calmly waited until her husband returned from wherever, or even sent a subspace message about his pending fatherhood. Then the husband would scoop his wife in his arms with a victory cry and declare that he had "done it!".

 Kathryn snickered as she thought of a scenario in which she could hail Chakotay while on the Crimond and he on the Ormskirk, and while his face frowned as he looked at her from the giant main viewscreen of the ship's bridge, she would say:

 "Hello, Chakotay. I have the most amazing news for you. You're going to be a father!"

 She could just picture his surprise or the gasps from the bridge crew and perhaps the entire crew of the Ormskirk who would be witness to her ship wide announcement.

 She'd gladly be lying under him in their bed later as due punishment for embarrassing him with an announcement like that in front of his crew. He would kiss her silly and later - she knew he would - Chakotay would make love to her again and make her body tingle like crazy for hours afterwards.

They made love on the night before his departure for Dorvan V and that was three weeks ago. Her body craved him. All those times when they were on separate missions, she had accepted that they were Starfleet officers who had to put personal lives aside for a greater, more noble task of defending the Federation. She missed him something furiously, naturally, and he was in no better shape by the time they made their subspace communication.

 Now, being pregnant again, she missed him. She missed his beloved face, his big bear hugs, the smile, the concern (when she was drinking far too much coffee for her own good), the love that radiated from him, the quiet moments when love needed no outward manifestation and all they needed was just being together.

 She missed him.

 "Do you ever think of me when you're away?" she asked him once.

 "All the time."

 "Good. Just so I know."

 "Kathryn, what's this? You know very well I can't breathe without you."

 "I'm a woman, Chakotay," she stated, unperturbed. "I'm allowed to be assured on a daily basis."

 "I suppose women like to hear verbal professions of love from their husbands," he conceded grudgingly.

 Kathryn smiled to herself again when she remembered their time on the Crimond when they had shared the tub, drinking good wine from long flutes and how she pinched his testicles with her toes because he was so off-hand about her question.

 Yes, men sometimes needed to hear it too. She had no trouble repeating her avowal of love for him. It gave her a sense of freedom just telling him she loved him. She pictured him constantly, dreamed most nights of him. Then her hand always stole to the locket she wore under her uniform. Another secret smile. While it was against Starfleet regulations to be bejewelled, no one could see her locket. She thought that was what many officers in Starfleet did anyway.

 "Oh, Hannah, you're safe just here, close to my heart," she whispered.

 The shuttle sped to its destination. Late last night she had relayed Elizabeth Paris's message to Caldik Prime where her son Tom was stationed. He was on board his vessel and his voice had sounded a little dour when she informed him of the message, downloading it on his vid-com. He hadn't looked very happy. She thought she saw a discontented look on his face. The only redeeming element was the way his piercing blue eyes suddenly lit up when she mentioned his parents. A second later his joy was replaced with the discontented look again.

 But, Kathryn was glad that that part of her mission was complete. She was happy doing it for her physician who was, when all was said and done, just a mother who missed her son. The Admiral was just a father who missed his son. She hoped sincerely that Tom could patch things with his parents. Kathryn realised it was not so much Tom's mother, but his father who was the source of Tom's rebellious streak. Tom was still young, she supposed, and the idea of correction could appeal to him, if he considered himself a mature human being who could be humble and talk to his father. Sometimes she had seen Admiral Paris's eyes fixed on a framed photograph of Tom on the desk in his office. That small gesture alone was enough to reveal the Admiral's regard for his son.

 "He chose to be stationed so far away, Kathryn," Dr Paris said one day.

 "Maybe it's just something they all do - get away from the parental hub as soon as they can," Kathryn replied.

 Elizabeth Paris had given a deep sigh and Kathryn could hear the yearning in her voice.

 "I wonder, Tom," she whispered in the semi-dark of the shuttle, "if you know just how much your parents care about you..."

 Her thoughts went to her husband, who had not seen his parents for more years than the few months at a time Tom Paris was away from home. Chakotay had done the right thing. He had made the move - albeit with some encouragement from her - to go to his parents and heal the breach that existed between them for so many years. It took great courage, and Chakotay had done that. It was the most poignant thing she had ever witnessed: father and son reuniting. Not only that, Chakotay loved his family. He belonged with them. Now, they could come to Dorvan V for their vacations as their home away from home. She loved Kolopak and Hannah as if they were her own mother and father, and she had grown to admire and respect them deeply for their beliefs, but mostly, because they were genuinely salt of the earth people who extended the hand of friendship to her as a person, an officer, a daughter-in-law, as Chakotay's wife.

 She loved Chakotay's family, was happy that he met with them again. She loved little Winonah with the dark, expressive eyes. The child had taken to her and Kathryn had been inordinately pleased. Chakotay looked so in his element in the company of his own people. He looked so part of the setting, so... _at home..._

Kolopak was the kindest man in the world. Kathryn couldn't imagine never seeing him again, as he had feared when she and Chakotay left the last time. She had given him the assurance that Chakotay and she would visit regularly. Kolopak had a direct regard, a no-nonsense attitude about him. She loved Kolopak and Hannah, as much as Chakotay loved them. Kathryn was going to use her short visit to inform them too, of the pending new addition the family.

 She must have dozed off because she woke with a start, surprised to see that an hour had passed. Doctor Paris had warned her that she would experience tiredness. Even the slight nausea had returned, now that the medication had worn off.

 "Right on time," she murmured to herself when she reached the orbit of Dorvan V. The thrill and expectation that had persisted along with the film of queasiness, now increased dramatically as she looked at a view of Dorvan V. She was already seated at the conn and was on the alert to receive a hail from the planet.

 Kathryn sucked in her breath as she looked at the planet on her viewscreen. It lay quiet, not like the blue of Earth with its swirling oceans, but like a golden ball. Perhaps more like the Red Planet, she thought idly. Her heart burned with fierce pride. Dorvan V was home to her too, now. She felt almost as connected to this world as Chakotay's people were.

 Permission to enter orbit and land was a formality as she accepted the greeting from Dorvan's Chief of Operations.

 "And may I say _'Welcome to our world'_ , Captain Janeway."

 Kathryn smiled at the face that stared at her. His hair was pitch black and very long; a section was caught in a long braid adorned with a feather. It still struck her as so unique that the tribes of Dorvan V, though obsessed with retaining their cultural identity, set about using the Federation's most advanced communications systems to keep track of the comings and goings of Off-Worlders. She knew this man. She had been introduced to him by Chakotay himself the last time they were on Dorvan V.

 "Thank you, Cha'tima," she responded to his friendly greeting. When she closed communication, she prepared to enter orbit and minutes later the Excalibur touched down on the launching pads on the outskirts of Chakotay's village.

 It was dusk, but the sky was clear. Even so, the stars were out, flickering brightly against the firmament. Kathryn paused for a few minutes to breathe in the warmth of the planet as its aura wrapped itself around her. It was strange, she thought. The stars appeared almost blue in the distance. She had learned on her first visit here that Dorvan's atmosphere created that impression, yet they exuded a warmth, an invitation to want to reach out and touch them.

 There were not many people about and the streets were already dark. Those who did stroll about, walked hand in hand - lovers on trysts, maybe, or, a father with his young son or daughter. She was still on the edge of the town, just about to pass the _habak_. By the smoke that curled lazily in tendrils from a funnel on the roof, she knew that someone was sitting around the stone ring and experiencing a vision quest.

 Kathryn gave a sigh when she recalled the first time Kolopak had taken her to the _habak_ and she had seen his father, Chakotay's grandfather. Some weeks after that Chakotay had tentatively suggested guiding her to finding her animal guide.

 She smiled to herself at the tender memory of that conversation.

 "Let me guess: yours is a bear," she said with so much conviction that Chakotay's face had broken into smiling creases.

 "No, it's not," he said, and she had looked with surprise at him. He was so much the bear type, she couldn't imagine him with any other animal. Besides, he was always so damnably huggable.

 "Then what is it?" She had had a momentary flash of scepticism that he could have been pulling her a fast one, but his face had been serious, even through the smile. "I can't imagine an animal or a bird stronger and more fearsome than a bear or a condor - "

 "It's neither, Kathryn. And, I can't tell you - " Chakotay had replied kindly. He never laughed outright at her ignorance of the ways of his people, the way of the warrior. The truth was, she expected him to find it funny, to ridicule her, but his reaction had always been tinged with kindness, compassion and that somehow absorbed the feeling that he might have made fun of her.

 "He must guide you well, Chakotay."

 They had been sitting on a deep throw rug on the floor of the lounge in Indiana. There was a glowing fire licking in little tongues, and its glow bathed the room in golden hues. Chakotay had touched her cheek then, giving her the full benefit of his deep dimples.

 "It's not a he, Kathryn. It's a _she_."

 She had given him a grave nod and even now, as she walked down the street where their house was situated - it sounded so good saying _their house_ \- she remembered thinking how fitting it was that Chakotay, whom her crew called the _Angry Warrior,_ could be guided by a woman.

 Then Chakotay had guided her gently to finding her own animal guide. She had been so totally engrossed that the rugged beauty of the rocky shore she found herself transported to appeared so real that she could actually lean against a rock and touch the little animal reverently. She had not consciously been looking for any specific animal and it really seemed as if the animal sought her and found her waiting. Its little eyes were on her, and when she touched it, it didn't move away.

 Was it trying to tell her something?

 Chakotay had told her there was always something, a message hidden. It was for her the most beautiful experience. Vaguely, she could sense Chakotay's presence in the vision, even as she fully appreciated being part of her surroundings. She could hear the heaving ocean, a gull squawking as it flew towards the horizon, silhouetted against the sun. There the sun was a red ball that hovered and moved slowly, sank into the ocean and its glow painted the sky with hues of red and orange and blue.

 It had been a defining moment for her as a scientist who for a few precious and burning minutes - it could have been seconds or milliseconds - had relinquished the curious and the sceptical and moved fearlessly beyond a point where everything rested in spirituality and belief. Even time had become an element, one in which one could live an entire lifetime in one second, or experience whole events in a matter of milliseconds.

 She was about fifty metres away from their house. It was almost completely dark now and she wondered what Chakotay was doing. She wanted to surprise him so she didn't hail him on her commbadge. She wanted to see his face, the surprise at her presence, and then watch him as she told him about the baby, about Hannah who would be born around Christmas.

 Her heart thudded wildly. She had only a few hours before she had to return to the shuttle and get back to the Crimond. Her mission to other worlds in the sector was almost completed and she was also ready to get home, to Earth. The few strollers she passed in the road marked her presence with pleasant surprise when they greeted her and she returned their greeting.

 She reached the front door and quickly, quietly entered.

 Kathryn stood in the lounge and noticed immediately the leftover food and wine. Did Chakotay have visitors here today? she wondered. But she heard a voice - voices? - coming from the bedroom. She frowned. Was someone else here? She did enter the right house? The momentary confusion was released when she heard a groan.

 Then a cry.

 Another cry.

 Chakotay.

 Kathryn remembered how the absence of doors had taken away all reserve when she and Chakotay had been here, making love. She remembered the liberating feeling of open doors and windows when they made love.

 There were voices.

 Her feet carried her forward; she felt a sudden rush of adrenaline that fear caused. Even as she started to breathe with difficulty, a part of her knew, and a part of her wanted to lash out in screaming denial.

 Kathryn stood in the doorway. Her face froze. She froze into an immobility that she wondered always afterwards, had it been the gods or God who made moving an impossibility?

 For minutes she just watched, because what she saw was something unbelievable, so totally unreal that she blinked several times, her eyelids the only sign of movement as her rigid body forced her to watch…

 watch…

watch…

 Chakotay was lying naked on his back on their bed. His hands were firmly gripped around the waist of a woman.

 Kathryn registered absently that the woman was Cardassian.

 The woman was impaled on Chakotay, and she was screaming with every heave Chakotay made as he lifted her so that only the tip of his penis was still lodged in her, then he rammed her down on him.

 "Yessss!" hissed the woman. Their bodies were bathed in sweat and Chakotay…

 His eyes were wide, filled with lust, his mouth open as he grunted in their fierce, ragged movements, their concentration so complete that no one existed beyond the two of them and what they were doing.

 "Let me fuck you hard, Sedeka," Chakotay growled, gasping for breath as the woman above him helped him by lifting herself and plunging down on him. Her breasts bobbed as she moved, but her arms were thrown wide in the abandonment of the act. Her hair spread out like a fan as she bucked and Chakotay arched. It was unreal, unreal…

 "Oh, yes, do it, Chakotay. Just…do it! Fuck me!"

 "Yessss!" he cried in a frenzied voice.

 They rode each other in a primal frenzy that was crude, debasing, sickening... Kathryn heard their cries - loud, obscene, becoming wilder, maniacal as they looked like they were fighting each in the throes of their lust.

 Kathryn couldn't pull herself away. Someone…something kept her rooted to the spot, someone clamped a pair of hands to her head so she couldn't look away...

 Kathryn remembered other times, another place, this place, this bed, Chakotay's words:

  _"Kathryn, sweetheart, you make love to me with a freedom that is humbling…"_

_"Do you think we'll ever tire of making love?_

_"I love it when you're on top, Kathryn. I can watch your face…"_

_"There is not an ocean deeper, or a galaxy further, I won't go for you, sweet Kathryn…"_

_"Chakotay, you passed out…"_

_"I did? It's because you drive me crazy with need, honey…"_

_"How many different ways can I make love to you, Kathryn?"_

_"I have a pair of broad shoulders, Kathryn. Lean against me, I won't let you fall."_

_Once, Chakotay had sobbed uncontrollably when they made love in Indiana._

_"I love you too much, Kathryn…"_

_"Never leave me, Chakotay…"_

_"Oh, my dearest, we'll have children again…"_

_"I love you, Chakotay…"_

_"I swear to God I will never hurt you, Kathryn…"_

 Kathryn's face, when it could become animated again as the shock of the tableau rocked her finally into movement, burned with shame. She gave an involuntary cry, then clamped her hand over her mouth, already feeling the nausea heaving like a rolling thunderstorm inside her.

 The couple collapsed into their shameless orgasm, and when Kathryn cried out, they became aware of her for the first time.

 Sedeka sat up, still impaled on Chakotay, already moving again. There was a malicious grin on her face as she looked at Kathryn while she moved. Chakotay's face, glazed from the sex, for one awful moment changed, recognition dawning. He gripped Sedeka's hips again in an attempt to push her off him, but Sedeka clamped her knees around his waist.

 Then she opened her mouth and leered.

 "Hello, Captain Janeway. Want to help me fuck Chakotay?"

 And Chakotay…

 Only one word burst from his mouth as Kathryn swung round and dashed out of the house.

 "Kathryn!!!!"

 ***

 She was running.

 Her feet carried her up the street, past the last row of houses, past the _habak_ were smoke was still curling from its chimney. She counted herself a person of supreme physical fitness, but her chest burned from the exertion. Her breathing was rapid, short gasps as she tried to wipe the damning images of her husband having sex with a strange woman.

 The images stayed, tortured, broke open her conscious and played themselves out with punishing regularity as she ran in the direction of the shuttle launching pads. It seemed kilometres away now, the distance of earlier when her sweet thoughts of her husband and their future together as officers of Starfleet, as parents of their daughter, seemed like nothing.

 Now, she sped away from the town, tried to run from the images of groping hands, sweat drenched bodies, coarse language, grunting and groaning that followed her and impaled themselves on her brain. They ravaged her, tossed her about on an open ocean of raging waters.

 Her husband, soon-to-be-father of their daughter.

 Chakotay, Warrior, who pledged his undying devotion.

 In her bed, in the throes of sex with another woman.

 Kathryn did not feel the sting of salt tears that burned indelible trails down her cheeks. She had no recollection of running towards the launching pads. Her mind, in a whirl, let the images in and let them terrify her. Her mind, scientist, controller of the rational aspects of her life, was letting her down. She was unable to comprehend, to grasp fully what she had seen. It was an impossibility, something so completely unexpected that she couldn't assimilate it fully. So the images taunted, mocked her.

 Two heaving bodies - one was her husband, the other body was not hers.

 Not long ago, she had been in that position, straddled over Chakotay and he had claimed that he finally experienced peace such as he had never experienced before in his life.

 Kathryn ran. Her mouth was open, some of the tears found their way to the corners of her mouth, insinuating themselves into her mouth.

 She tasted her own salty tears.

 Yet, strangely, while she saw what she saw, while she heard the crude invitation from the woman's lips, while Chakotay in deep concentration couldn't see her, while he looked at her with glazed eyes and recognition came only belatedly, she wanted to reject them.

 It didn't happen.

 It couldn't happen, not to her.

 She had never, in her wildest imagination, considered ever seeing the tormenting tableau.

 It accused her.

 It paraded itself all over her heart.

 Then she heard a voice.

 "Kathryn! Kathryn!"

 She paused in her tracks and swung round. In the darkness she peered at someone - Chakotay - running towards her.

 "Kathryn!" he shouted again.

 When he stood a few metres away from her, she noticed idly he was wearing a pair of boxers. No top, no shoes. He must have just jumped from the bed.

 She looked into his eyes. Chakotay stood there. For long moments they looked at one another. Kathryn's mind, ravaged by what she had seen, couldn't find a single connection, a point at which she could look on the events with a rational air. He lips trembled, her hands trembled, her body trembled. She was unaware of the tears that still coursed in an unabated flow down her cheeks.

 Chakotay tried to move forward. It seemed as if the words were stuck in his throat. She noticed absently how his Adam's apple moved in jerky movements…

 "Kathryn, for the love of God, let me - " He came closer. Her hands were loosely at her side, and as Chakotay took another step forward, she felt for her phaser. In an instant she drew it and pointed it to him. For a few seconds Captain Janeway emerged from the shattered woman - strong, forceful, uncompromising.

 "Back off, Commander," she said quietly.

 Chakotay stood rooted. Kathryn closed her eyes for a second. Chakotay looked exactly as he always looked after sex. If she stood any closer to him, she could smell the aftermath of sex, the stench of stale wine. She realised with blinding insight that Chakotay and that woman must have been at it for hours… In an instant the resolve overtook her again.

 "Back off…"

 Then Kathryn turned calmly and walked the few metres to the shuttle. The hatch slid open. It was a soft swish while Kathryn's heart and mind screamed for release inside her.

 "Kathryn…please…" she heard Chakotay's voice.

 Kathryn never looked back. She initiated the start-up sequence. The planet grew smaller as the Excalibur lifted off, and sped away as silently as it had entered the orbit of Dorvan V.

 Inside the shuttle Kathryn battled in vain to stop the shudders that wracked her slender frame. She entered the coordinates of the Crimond and set the controls on autopilot. She stood in the middle of the floor, uncertain of her next movement or her actions of the next hours. The rising nausea of earlier, temporarily delayed by the shock, returned with full force. Kathryn clutched at her chest, at her stomach, felt the nausea overcome her. Then she tried to cover her mouth with fingers that trembled violently.

 She sank to the floor and bent over, giving in to the harsh heaving.

  _Breathe in, Kathryn, she instructed herself. Breathe in…_

But her commands were dross, little bits and pieces of dry grass that blew away her resolve to control herself. She retched violently, feeling how her muscles tensed so painfully that for a moment the pain of it superseded the pain of the retching. She had not eaten much the whole day, her last recollection of eating anything had been the toast she had the morning. That had been eight hours ago… Her stomach, already empty, expelled all fluid until finally, the fluid turned to tiny blotches of blood.

 That rocked her up.

 Clutching her stomach with both hands, she realised belatedly that she never told Chakotay about their baby, about Hannah whom he wanted and who was going to make her first appearance at Christmas.

 Then only Kathryn screamed into the silence of the shuttle. It bulkheads vibrated, but it was her own violent shuddering that distorted her perspective. Kathryn screamed and screamed and screamed.

 Only, the quiet bulkheads remained mute, silent witnesses to her pain.

 Kathryn stumbled to the bunk and fell down on it.

 She lay on her back, saw again the woman thrusting up and down on Chakotay. She saw again Chakotay's big hands gripping the woman's hips and encouraging her to be more aggressive, more coarse. She heard again:

  _"Hello, Captain Janeway. Want to help me fuck Chakotay?"_

_"I swear to God I'll never hurt you, Kathryn…"_

The tears came.

 They were deep wracking sobs that couldn't stop.

  _"Hello, Captain Janeway. Want to help me fuck Chakotay?"_

She pictured Chakotay's face as she pointed her phaser at him. The glazed look had been replaced by shock. But he still smelled of sex, still reeked of wine.

  _"Hello, Captain Janeway. Want to help me fuck Chakotay?"_

 "Oh, Lord, let it stop, please," she cried brokenly. "Let it stop…"

  _"Hello, Captain Janeway. Want to help me fuck Chakotay?"_

The tears streamed unabated.

 The nausea overtook her again.

 She sat up on the bunk and doubled over as another retching spell shook her.

 "Oh, Chakotay, what have you done? Why?" she cried brokenly as the nausea subsided eventually.

 Kathryn looked around her, saw the signs of her trauma. Slowly she rose, opened a little cabinet just above the bunk. When she had the box opened, she took a cloth and somehow, stumbled to the replicator to get water. She spent the next few minutes cleaning up. When she was finished, she dumped the cloths in the recycler, then got some more water to splash her tear ravaged face. Her hands still trembled as she worked. Her legs were stiff, cramped when she sagged on the bunk again.

 She closed her eyes, tried to block out the images - vile, dirty, coarse, obscene words, Chakotay's face, still flushed from sex.

 They kept coming in never-ending tormenting stabs, forcing her to note them, demanding that they lay claim on her memory. She shifted on the bunk, tried to find a position that relieved the stiffness of her body; meanwhile Chakotay's face flashed before her, blinding flashes, an image of him standing before her, the guilt of his transgression submerged by the heat on his face, the smell of sex. She saw Chakotay as she had seen him that first time, an eternity ago.

  _"Sergei told me you had ten moles and a wart."_

_"I was expecting to see an old man from the outer reaches of Federation space, an old fogy out of touch with humanity and who snored_

_"Then I'm glad I don't snore. Hello, I'm Chakotay - "_

_"Hello, Captain Janeway. Want to help me fuck Chakotay?"_

They kept coming, images of past events, memories sweet that stood in crying contrast to what she had seen.

  _"Kathryn, my love, the second time we make love today, I swear by all that is holy, I’ll caress you with all the gentleness I have in me and that I want to shower on you…_

_"But…?"_

_"Right now, Kathryn Janeway, I’m not going to be a very nice man…."_

_"Right now, Chakotay, I don't want a very nice man…"_

"Then be prepared, Kathryn..."

 Kathryn cried out in pain. Chakotay's beloved face receded from her, and in its place the one she had seen when? An hour ago? Minutes ago? When?

 She remembered lying in his arms on the same bed. She remembered his vow…

  _"We'll be here again, sweet Kathryn, and…"_

_"And…?"_

_"And you'll see something like you've never seen before…"_

 "I certainly did, Chakotay. I certainly did," she whispered, then quietly cried again until she fell into a restless slumber that was punctuated by dreams. Dreams in which Chakotay swore his undying love; dreams in which he told her with so much confidence of the daughter they were going to name Hannah. She saw him in dreams where he walked with difficulty after his accident. She saw him massage his mother's neck muscles. She saw him in dreams where he smiled and said how proud he was of her, how honoured he felt to be by her side forever.

 It was hours later that she woke up. Still dazed from sleep and still tired, she took a little case and took a brush from it. She brushed her hair, applied some light lipstick. She watched idly as her hands still trembled. When she looked into a small mirror of her case, she cried out in shock.

 She looked clearly distressed, her eyes puffy, her cheeks hollow, her face ravaged although she had just dabbed it with a soft cloth.

 It was strange, when thoughts of Chakotay overpowered her again, that he didn't follow her…

 She wanted to cry again, but held back the tears. In an hour, she realised, she would be within visual range of the Crimond.

 USS Crimond. Her ship. Crew complement of 400.

 They couldn't see her like this. That thought struck her as she realised that in the morning she would be on duty again, even though the Crimond would be on its way to Earth. She would be Captain Kathryn Janeway again, whose husband was engaged in talks about the future of Dorvan V.

 And so Kathryn Janeway, wife of Commander Chakotay, resolved that her crew never see her in her present condition. It was too much to bear.

 "Oh, God! I'm carrying Chakotay's child…"

 She fought back the tears, rigidly forced herself to become calm.

 She opened a hail and the face of Commander Eamon Daley was a welcome sight in the storm of her trauma.

 "Welcome back, Captain. You'll be docking in 30 minutes. Lieutenant-Commander Rollins will be on hand to receive you - "

 "Thank you, Commander. I'm glad to be back."

 Kathryn closed communication quickly, afraid she break down again. She hoped that she gave the impression of calm efficiency. She thought it was good that Daley didn't ask about bringing Chakotay back with her. Good thing that he didn't ask about whether Chakotay was happy about the baby.

 She realised again that she hadn't told Chakotay of her baby. She had been too distraught, had forgotten what she had been there for in the first place. Chakotay had done what she never in ten thousand years thought he would. In the most ugly manner of sex, he betrayed his wife. It was difficult to imagine right now a husband who could be sorry for what he had done.

 Her fingers flew briskly over the panels at the conn. When the Crimond came into full view, Kathryn wanted to burst into tears. The docking port was open, brightly lit as she guided the shuttle into the docking bay. Kathryn breathed a deep sigh as she opened the hatch and alighted from the shuttle.

 At the other end of the shuttle bay stood Lieutenant-Commander Magnus Rollins. It could not be avoided. It was his job. She had to walk in his direction and pass through the doors into the long corridor of deck twelve. She had to face him, as she had to face her other senior officers, as she had to face every crewmember she passed in the corridors. She rebuked herself.

 Kathryn, now is the time. Act like you have never done before. You can do it. Fool them. Your heart has cried all heaven's tears; it's now a dead organ serving only your living and your breathing. Don't let them see you down. Don't…don't…

 When she approached Magnus Rollins, she paused to exchange a few words with him. The torrents tossed her about in the inside, but outside, she had to show them everything was fine.

 Everything was fine.

 "Captain!" he said jovially, "it's good to have you back."

 "Thank you, Magnus." She wanted to walk past him, escape quickly through the shuttle bay doors. Then she heard Magnus's voice again and she turned to look at him.

 "Captain, I thought Commander Chakotay would be returning with you."

 "Well, he's not here, is he?" she asked, aware that the censorious tone alerted him anyway, because he frowned deeply.

 "Did anything go wrong with the talks, Captain. If I may be bold, Captain. You look very pale. Very pale indeed."

 "The talks are going ahead as we speak, Commander."

 "I…understand, Captain."

 "Thank you. That will be all, Magnus."

 "Aye, Captain."

 Kathryn nodded and sped to her quarters. She had to be on duty in the morning. But at this moment, all she wanted to do was crawl into a hole and never come out. All she wanted to do, was try and forget heaving, sweating, rutting bodies, coarse words; the look of guilt on Chakotay's face.

 All she wanted to do, was die quietly.

 Die quietly…

 Die…

 quietly…

 *

**END CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK TWO: TEARS

* * *

**BOOK TWO:  TEARS**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Chakotay watched with dazed eyes as the shuttle lifted off. It sped away into the thick, black darkness. He had no idea how he got to the transport launching pads, except that he must have been running. He had known from the moment he threw Sedeka off his shuddering body, that his world had come to a shameful end. It was mostly that he sensed a darkness descending upon him, a void of black so complete that neither sight, nor sound, nor touch nor sense could direct him out of the abyss. Once before, he found his way out; there was an instinct, like an animal perhaps, that guided him to the light. Now, he knew with intuitive clarity, that the darkness would walk forever with him.

 His mind was a miasma of swirling memories of the past few hours, lately overtaken by the first squall that was his guilt, crashing down on him without reserve for rank or person or sex. Already, he knew he was tumbling over backwards into hell.

 He was breathless, a sharp pain in his chest making breathing different. One moment he clutched convulsively at his chest, the next moment he sank to his knees.

 He looked up in the direction where the shuttle had silently dissolved into the black sky. It left and Chakotay, already bogged down by the weight of his guilt, so new, so alien to him that he couldn’t comprehend its power, knew a petrifying grief. Not a word escaped from his lips, but somewhere in his brain registered the fact that his lips were moving, and his hands were trembling.

 The crazed ecstasy that imprisoned him all afternoon into the evening had lifted the moment he had seen Kathryn standing in the door of their bedroom. Not now, not ever will he know how he came to sense that Kathryn had been watching them, that she was there. He just looked that way… The next moment he realised the shattering truth. Someone - Sedeka - was straddling him. An instant, and he knew that the person on top of him was not Kathryn. Swamped momentarily by the confusion, Sedeka uttered her coarse invitation.

 The fog lifted. For the first time he could see Sedeka clearly, and he could see Kathryn.

 In that moment he realised, not consciously, but a deep, inborn sense of just, that he wronged Kathryn.

 Kathryn watched.

 Kathryn bled.

 Kathryn died.

 Kathryn was gone.

 Only then Chakotay howled into the darkness. He wailed Kathryn's name for a few agonising seconds, his hands outstretched to the heavens in helpless supplication of abject remorse.

 No one answered him. The skies remained mute, the ground silent and the air around him accused , and the darkness swallowed him.

 "Oh, Kathryn..." he wailed, his face without tears, for his pain was too great, and his shame impossible to bear.

 There were no tears.

 No tears.

 Hollow eyes.

 Chakotay rose to his feet and walked slowly back to his house along the same path he had run after Kathryn. Kathryn's pain-filled face haunted him. It moved with him, every step he took, remained fixed on a spot that wouldn't move away.

 The look in her eyes burned on his brain, it etched in terrifying clarity her pain which had lain so ruthlessly open for him to see. He tried to shut it out, but he kept seeing her image: a persistent vision that followed him, or walked as a vanguard, making certain that he didn't miss it, or making certain he couldn't avoid it. No matter where he turned his head, her face was there. Etched with pain, confusion, hurt… he had never seen her like that.

 He had inflicted an incalculable injury on her. Everything he held to be truth and justice and trust and faith, lay at his feet, shattered. He trembled violently as he neared his house. For now, thoughts of what he had done, and the partner of his heinous deed began to transform into anger and burgeon into a rage such as he had never felt, not even when he saw…God help him, when he saw Caroline Meissen issuing him a similar obscene invitation.

 Sub-Commander Sedeka…the woman knew…

 When he entered the house, Sedeka stood in the lounge, fully dressed in her military armour. She looked at him, her eyes smouldering, but her lips curling again in what he only now realised, was a spiteful smile. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to step away from that malevolence that now, all of a sudden, revealed itself with full force.

 "I was doing my job," she smirked.

 "You bitch," he hissed and lunged for her. Sedeka jumped out of the way, knocking over the low table where the remnants of their dinner scattered over the floor. He stared at her with impotent rage. Somewhere in his brain warped images of unholy copulation made way for a tiny straw, a sliver of redemption he knew must somehow be for him. This was not real, he thought. Reality was Kathryn's pain, the doe-like fear, the confusion, the running… Reality was Sedeka doing things with him and him doing things with Sedeka. Somewhere amid the disorder of myriads of strange waves that criss-crossed and made him insane with fear and anger and grief, was a clarity: Chakotay knew that Sedeka had planned all of it.

 That didn't lessen his guilt.

 "What the hell have you done to me?"

 "I fucked you. You fucked me. I wanted it. You wanted it."

 Sedeka smiled sweetly when she said it. It incited his anger, fanned his fury and he lunged again for her. He wanted to curl his fingers round her throat and squeeze the life out of her.

 "What have _I_ done to her?" he screamed at her.

 "I have to leave..." Sedeka said, her voice dripping sarcasm. She made to move past Chakotay.

 "Like hell you will," he barked. He was fully conscious and actually able to see her clearly through his mindless fury. He grabbed her, his fingers curling round her throat. "You crazy bitch!" he bit out furiously. When Sedeka attempted another insolent smile, Chakotay's fingers closed tighter round her neck. He squeezed, his thumb pressing against her throat. He was blind to everything but that this female had helped him ruin Kathryn's life, and his. Sedeka started choking, then struggling to breathe as her hands started flailing. Even though she was stronger than the average human, she was no match for Chakotay's enraged and superhuman strength as he squeezed the life out of her. Sedeka's eyes began to pop, then her tongue plopped out of her mouth. Where Chakotay had pushed her against the wall, she sank slowly down, with his fingers like iron clamps round her neck. Like that Sedeka collapsed, her hands clutching Chakotay's as she tried to free herself. Her body became limp as all air left her.

 Then suddenly, she was able to breathe again as Chakotay's fingers released their vice grip. She coughed several times, the bluish-purple tinge of her skin that had turned to almost indigo as the blood ran from her face, returned when she could take in air in large gulps. Chakotay grabbed her by the collar and pulled her unceremoniously up. He wasn't finished with her. Then he shook her so hard that her head lolled about on her neck. This time though, she had regained some strength and she fought back, managing to push his hands away. In the next moment Chakotay had grabbed her collar, and he drew back his fist, aiming for her eyes. Sedeka stared at him, her eyes wide. Seconds earlier she was almost dead. She didn't look grateful that he spared her.

 "You'll regret it, Commander Chakotay, " she said, unafraid.

 "Don't worry, I'm already a dead man."

 "Fuck you."

 Chakotay wanted to hit her, hit her square between the eyes. For a few maddening seconds she was his adversary on the holodeck, and he was going to punch her senseless. He felt the heat in his eyes, crazy, demonic, and all he wanted was to do this female physical harm. He could plant his fist right between the eyes and kill her with one blow.

 Then he dropped his hand and pushed her roughly away from him.

 "Get out. Get out before I kill you..."

 "It was good of you to have me - "

 "Get out!"

 When she was finally gone, Chakotay sank down on the couch in deep despair. He looked about him, saw the leftover food, the bottles, glasses that perched on window sills and other surfaces. He saw…his clothes…boots…

 He saw Kathryn's face.

 Then he wept.

 Dry, wracking sobs that punished his body.

 "Don't leave me, Chakotay..."

_"I swear by all that is holy, I will never hurt you, my love..."_

He was mad, drunk. What happened to him? Who was he and who was Sedeka? What has she done? Since the afternoon, when they had been sharing a meal, the day had taken on a surreal feel. Nothing was real, nothing tangible. He was someone else and she... She was... Chakotay shook his head to dispel the last of the hazy cobwebs that had been in his head.

 Something was wrong.

 Something of terrifying proportions was horribly, horribly wrong.

 "Think, man," he ordered himself. "Think!"

 Kathryn's image stared at him again and he gave another cry of pain.

 "God, help!" he cried in helpless entreaty.

 He had sex today. Perhaps all afternoon, yet he had little recollection of how, when it started except that he had begun to think Sedeka was Kathryn. The signs were all around him. No decorum. Ugly, debasing something that ought to be the expression of all that was good in a marriage, a partnership. Was he in a dream state?

 Whatever it was, that Kathryn witnessed it, that Kathryn's eyes died in those moments, was what was real.

 "My life is over…that is real…"

 "My life is over…that is real…"

 It was unpardonable. He had been coarse, obscene, and only when he saw Kathryn, when the mist of his lust lifted fractionally, he had had a glimpse of reality. Kathryn had seen him with another woman. Not only that, she had seen them in that act of sex. How he come to do it? How? He loved Kathryn. He loved her to the point of insanity; he would die for her.

 Die for her.

 Die for her.

 Now, when the anger subsided, he could think straight.

 He knew he would never betray Kathryn. Their love was real. It was a miracle. They shared something rare, something most people never experienced in an entire lifetime. He has never betrayed anyone, not even, God help her, Caroline Meissen. Never had he thought that he could cheat on anyone. Kathryn was a refined being; she shrank naturally away from the coarse, the baseness. There was about her an inherent integrity, and above all, he admired that most in his wife, respected her as a woman, a fellow officer.

 He knew on a certain intellectual level, that he could never do that to Kathryn. He was a principled being; when he pledged his devotion to Kathryn, it was with a profound knowledge and humility that he knew he would love her forever, that he would walk through fire for her, that he would die for her.

 He betrayed Kathryn.

 Something was wrong.

 He had to get to the bottom of the mystery. It was a mystery. Sedeka made him dirty. They did something dirty and made his wife watch. She had come here to their home and found her husband…

 Chakotay closed his eyes and broke down again, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed.

 When the sobbing subsided, he rose stiffly from the couch, only now smelling the smell of fornication that pervaded the house, the odour of stale wine… He felt suddenly nauseated and hurried to the bathroom where he bent double over the toilet and retched painfully.

 The retching smelled of wine and old sex. Reeked of it. Old Cardassian wine and Federation cider and sex. He retched again, his stomach heaving as the waves kept rolling through him. Then he ran a cold shower and pulled off the boxers he had quickly pulled on when he ran out after Kathryn. As if to remind him again and again of what he had done, when he touched his penis, it felt raw… tender…

 Then he scrubbed. He scrubbed himself down with all his might. He scrubbed till his skin bled, tiny capillaries that the ice cold of the shower caused to warm up in heightened awareness that they had to transport lifesaving blood, made themselves vulnerable as Chakotay abused his body to wipe the Cardassian Sedeka off it. All the time he scrubbed, Chakotay howled his grief.

 He bled.

 Only later, he let the warm spray of the shower sting him, a burn so fierce that he cried out again.

 "Oh, dear God, Kathryn...What have I done to you?"

 Long he stood and let the heat of the water burn him.

 When he was finished, he dressed quickly, wincing as his skin rebelled against the coarseness of the fabric. Kathryn's image kept flashing, a persistence of vision he welcomed. He wanted to ache, to feel the accusing, and hold the shame.

 He had been having sex with Sedeka all afternoon. That fact stood out. His bedroom...

 Yet, something lingered. A memory, a sliver of a recollection that he had at times been aware it was Kathryn on top of him, then Sedeka. Later, Kathryn changed to Sedeka. How was that possible unless he was drugged?

 Unless he was in another state of being, a hallucinatory state?

 How could he explain his deeds to Kathryn? How could he justify it? There was none. That he betrayed her, no matter what the provocation, or the reason, valid or otherwise, he betrayed his beloved wife. That alone was a reprehensible act.

 He groaned as the reality of the situation hit him.

 He had to go after Kathryn. Explain to her.

 Explain what?

 Nothing.

 Who would believe him?

 So, he tidied up, and when he picked up the bottles, he frowned.

 He frowned deeply.

 What was Kathryn doing here?

 He had told her not to communicate with him, and an emergency message would have been made through official channels. That was the way they always did their weekly communications. Why did she come here, unannounced?

 Why?

 That thought puzzled him while he took Sedeka's bottle of Cardassian brandy which he never touched. The bottle was untouched. The other bottles…his own cider was finished, and a little wine was left from Sedeka's light table wine.

 He walked back to the bathroom and took a med-kit from the cabinet. His skin was still tingling, raw from the scrubbing, but he poured the last drops of the wine into an empty phial. He had not emptied his bladder and on an inspiration, collected a sample of his urine in another phial. He walked to the kitchen and on the table were the leftovers, and of everything that he and Sedeka ate that was Cardassian delicacies, he took samples.

 He became hopeful again, though not the kind of hope that Kathryn could ever put what she witnessed behind her. If there had been foul play, then he had been a participant. It was plain and simple. That is all Kathryn would see. She found her husband in her bed with another woman.

 What sentence other than _guilty_ could be written next to his name?

 Still, it would help if he could find a solution to the niggling doubts setting in.

 But first, he had to see his father.

 *****

 Kolopak looked at his son.

 Chakotay's head was bent where he sat opposite him. Although his hands were clasped together, the way his fingers laced, Kolopak could see the trembling.

 Chakotay was either angry, or bitter, embarrassed or ashamed.

 He could be all those things, Kolopak thought as the sympathy welling up in him. Chakotay had come into his home and Kolopak had asked immediately that Hannah retire to their room, telling her that he would explain everything later. Now, an hour later, after Chakotay had told him the shattering news, he didn't know if he too, should feel angry at his son for allowing himself to be manipulated by a woman.

 "Father..." Chakotay's eyes had been red, as if he had been crying. Kolopak made him sit down because Chakotay had been shaking violently then. "I - I...need your counsel..."

 "My son, what is ailing you? Did something happen? To Kathryn?"

 Kolopak had sensed that Chakotay's extreme distress had to do with Kathryn. Chakotay could only react in this way, or look like his world had come to an end if someone close, like his wife - if something happened to that person. Did anything happen to his wonderful and kind daughter-in-law? he wondered.

 "No...yes...no..." Chakotay had sounded indecisive, not knowing how to respond.

 "Speak, my son," he encouraged.

 Then, in halting tones, and with growing alarm and shock, Chakotay spoke of Sedeka, the Cardassian officer, of their afternoon together, of Kathryn who turned up at his house and saw them.

 He had tried not to show how shocked he was. Chakotay needed a counsellor, not a judge.

 "This Sedeka..." Kolopak said, "she was seen entering your house, my son."

 He had not wanted to make Chakotay feel worse, but Chakotay needed to know that people saw them; saw them and wondered. It could have been an innocent invitation.

 "She was friendly, Father...you understand? I had no reason to - to mistrust her..." Chakotay had spat that last word as he remembered how friendly Sedeka had been.

 "You love Kathryn with your whole heart, Cha-ko-tay, my son. I know that you would never knowingly do anything to hurt her..."

 "But I did...I did..." Chakotay lamented.

 Chakotay looked like he was ready to burst into tears.

 "I almost killed that woman..."

 "You didn't."

 "No," Chakotay sighed. "No, I didn't."

 "It will change nothing, Cha-ko-tay. Kathryn understands only what she has seen. You cannot explain to her that you were used, or manipulated. You were a willing participant."

 Chakotay had looked up then, his eyes filled with pain. Kolopak felt his own heart break for his son who was caught in something that appeared beyond him to control.

 "I can never deny that, Father. I - forgive me..." he whispered, then bent his head again. By the way his shoulders shook, Kolopak knew that Chakotay was sobbing - trying not to, but unable to stop.

 "You have hurt your wife very deeply, my son. But Kathryn...right now, she will be too wounded, too battered by a trauma she did not expect, or understand. She will not listen to excuses or apologies. It does not matter how sorry you are - and I know how deep your remorse is, Cha-ko-tay. She will only see what she has seen. You are the husband she has taken after being alone for ten years, remember that. Kathryn has been afraid to trust, and to love again. When she put her life in your hands, she gave more than that, Cha-ko-tay. She gave you all of her trust and all of her faith and all of her love. And when she did that, it was with the divine knowledge that you would cherish and protect it with your own life. She would not have given herself to you on any other terms."

 "Do you think I don't know that, Father?"

 "I am just reminding you of it, Cha-ko-tay, because it will be the cross that you will bear."

 "You are right," Chakotay sighed. "I cannot explain myself to her. My guilt is fixed."

 Kolopak leaned forward and touched Chakotay's hands. When Chakotay sat up again and looked at him, Kolopak thought that his son may never be the same again. He looked like an old man, and overnight it seemed to him, many new creases had sprung up in his son's face. His face was strained, unsmiling, worried. Chakotay had transgressed, he felt his remorse bone deep, because his love for Kathryn was all-consuming. He knew that his son had taken Kathryn after he too, had been afraid to trust another human being with his heart. Now, Chakotay's fidelity was in question. Chakotay was a fine man, one who had principles and one who would die for those principles. Granted, he rebelled when he was fifteen and went off to the Academy and broke his father's heart, but Chakotay had done so because of a deep inner conviction to follow his dreams and know that his dreams were not impossible to attain. That was the man Chakotay was. That was his son. He tied his destiny to Kathryn, and Kathryn, the possessor of his heart, had the same power to infiltrate Chakotay's armour and make him vulnerable and break him. That was the power of love, made all the more powerful because she did not abuse it. Chakotay has done so, and, Kolopak believed, in an unwitting game of manipulation.

Therefore, Chakotay could never in all of the creation of the Sky Spirits, have gone willingly into the arms of another woman. Kolopak just knew that, the way he knew his son, and the way he had seen Chakotay with Kathryn... It was not the breathless love of the young; it was a deep river that flowed, in which he could see the respect they had for one another, an admiration for each others' strength. It was in everything - their looks, their hand gestures, a touch, the way their voices changed when they addressed each other. He, Kolopak, could see what neither Chakotay nor Kathryn could see because they had not reached that point in this terrible destruction to see things clearly and think rationally.

 So, he figured...

 "Do you suspect foul play, Cha-ko-tay, my son?"

 "Even if I did, Father, it doesn't change anything, does it? I still betrayed my wife..." Chakotay gave a deep sigh. "I still betrayed her…betrayed her…" His shoulders started shaking again as he battled to contain himself. He brushed away at some tears that had fallen, a jerky movement over his face. Chakotay seemed like a beaten man.

 "But something doesn't add up, does it?"

 "If I can find what it is, it still does not expiate my guilt, Father."

 "So you’re going to do nothing?"

 Chakotay shook his head. He looked clearly too miserable to envisage a light at the end of his tunnel.

 "I have to stay for tomorrow's talks, then I'll join my ship, Father."

 "You're not going to contact Kathryn and find out why she was here in the first place?"

 "Definitely not to spy on me," Chakotay replied sarcastically.

 "She came to tell you something, Cha-ko-tay."

 "But what?"

 "You figure that out, Cha-ko-tay," Kolopak replied sagely, then thought to himself: _And may the spirits guide you, my son. The road you are about to undertake is strewn with the thorns of the chaparral clay bush. It's a long, long road ahead for you back to Kathryn, and I don't know if I'll always be there to listen to you and lead you..._

Kolopak leaned forward again to touch the shoulder of his first born. Chakotay sat with his head bent.

 Hannah stood in the doorway of her bedroom and looked at father and son.

 A single tear rolled from her cheek.

 ***

 The Chamber of the Tribal High Council was full. Anthwara sat at the head of the long, gleaming table. In sharp contrast to the other buildings of the pueblo, the Chamber was modern, and the Council sitting was in accordance with Federation protocol. It was a concession and a mark of respect for the United Federation of Planets that they sought modernity in at least the application of their governance.

 At the other end of the long table sat Captain Jean-Luc Picard, and the rest of the seats were taken up by tribal leaders and a Cardassian representative in the person of Gul Evek.

 Kolopak knew that the talks would fail. Inasmuch as it was to preserve their remaining on Dorvan V under Federation laws, it was not going as planned. He had known that his people were implacable in their resolve to remain on Dorvan V, even if it meant they had to relinquish their precious Federation citizenship.

 He reasoned in much the same way as Chakotay would have done, trying to convince his people that there could be another alternative, and that they could undertake another hundred years of travelling the stars to find that home. He was tied to this world as much as his fellow tribesmen were. They all had the spiritual connection to the planet, all of them could swear by the spirits of their ancestors that the very air breathed life; that their ancestors were there, in the spirit, guiding them, counselling them, emanating love and kindness. They had made a home here for two hundred years. This was their world as much as Earth belonged to the men and women who dwelled there.

 Such a forced removal struck at the very heart of the Dorvans. They left Earth because their needs and cultural heritage and identity lay in tatters; there had been no sympathy, no compassion, only a silent disinterest in their beliefs. On Dorvan V they found their home, a new heimat that grew into the hearts of everyone who had been born there. No one could take it away from them. It was theirs and it meant freedom.

 Now, the balance of power in the Alpha Quadrant depended on the people of Dorvan V. Kolopak knew - as well as Chakotay had told him many times - that the Federation considered their hard stand against forced removal as a liability. And so, in order for the expeditious severance of his people from their home world to take place, all they had to do was leave.

 None of his people were ready to go.

 There lay the heart of the power struggle.

 War loomed on the horizon of Dorvan V's northern continent, it hovered hours away.

 Jean-Luc Picard fought, offered uncompromising byways and alternatives, reasoned, bargained, lost.

 Kolopak wondered idly if Chakotay had been present whether he would really have been able to sway his people into accepting the terms the Federation offered.

 It may have worked.

 But Chakotay would have been instrumental in suggesting another alternative, and that was to move the boundary of the newly proposed Demilitarised Zone so that Dorvan V could fall outside it and remain resultantly under Federation jurisdiction. Could it have worked? Kolopak sat through the long hours of bargaining for their future and their very existence on Dorvan V. He wondered whether Chakotay would have succeeded had he been here.

 He didn't think so.

 The overwhelming decision to remain would have made Chakotay's pleas like dross in the wind. He admired his son, loved him intensely. But Chakotay could only have done so much. Kolopak had himself given Chakotay his blessing to leave Dorvan V to follow Kathryn and make things right with her. Chakotay hadn't wanted to go; he knew that his duty was to remain and to see his people receive justice at the hands of both the Federation and the Cardassians. The threat of an ongoing war that had already laid to waste too many homeworlds, enslaved entire populations and massacred in such numbers that the Federation or any other reasonable man would have deemed to be an atrocity on a scale that had never in all of history been seen, loomed too large.

 Dorvan V held the key to peace.

 And so, its people bargained for peace in the name of peace.

 Kolopak saw his home world transform from a protected mandate of the United Federation of Planets to a property of the Cardassian Union. After hours of talks, his people had opted to relinquish their citizenship of the Federation.

 Jean-Luc Picard had declared that their decision had to be respected and accepted. He had tried his best, was saddened by the fact that Commander Chakotay had not been present to present a rational outlook on the whole scene and then concluded his summation by saying that the Federation could not, in the light of their decision, guarantee their safety.

 The Dorvans had always felt that the Federation had treated them with less fairness than they had other worlds, and that once again, they would be drawing the shortest end of the stick. Their cause was noble, but it was one that rested in sentiment and not common sense.

 Kolopak had nodded and accepted the new terms. When he raised his head and fixed his gaze on Gul Evek, he could have sworn he saw there a flinty look, one he had seen many times before when someone was contemplating an act of revenge. What was it with Gul Evek that stirred the restlessness in him? The man appraised him surreptitiously; all morning Kolopak had felt Gul Evek's eyes on him. Then Kolopak wondered what Gul Evek wanted, or what strange agenda he had.

 It had to be. Kolopak had sensed as well, that the woman who had seduced his son, had something to do with this man. Once, he had seen them together, and at the time he had not given any thought to it. They had seemed close, not the kind of closeness of love such as he and Hannah shared, or Chakotay and Kathryn had, but now, with hindsight, after Chakotay had told him of his act of folly with that woman, he knew something was going on between Gul Evek and Sub-commander Sedeka.

They were thick as thieves. It hadn't looked like that a week ago, but thinking about it now, he knew as surely as he could see his own father in a vision quest and touch his leathery face, that Gul Evek and Sub-commander Sedeka were plotting something. Or, had plotted something.

 Kolopak could sense it now, much stronger than he had when he had seen them together that day. Perhaps he had not been attuned to them, he had been so happy to see Chakotay back on Dorvan V to give them support. Now, it was strong, and the way Gul Evek stared at him, then smiled a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes, Kolopak knew that Gul Evek helped to mastermind the seduction of Chakotay and worked - or ordered - that Chakotay be rendered useless to their cause.

 Kolopak knew in those moments that they had known Chakotay would leave Dorvan V without staying for the talks, and if Kathryn hadn't stumbled upon his son copulating with another woman, they would have seen to it that Chakotay would not be present at the all important talks. Didn't Kathryn's unannounced appearance play just brilliantly into their hands? They could not have known Kathryn was on her way to Dorvan V.

 Whichever way Kolopak chose to look at it, they were going to succeed. They did in fact, succeed in getting rid of Chakotay.

 That was the plan, an elaborate one in which the Cardassians had subtly outwitted the Federation, and held a phaser to the Federation's head by promising a long drawn out war of thirty years. The Federation could not afford such an engagement, and the Cardassians were on the point of garnering for themselves important and very, very powerful allies.

 Kolopak could hold nothing against his son. Chakotay had unknowingly been a pawn in their game, a vicious and underhand game that had no rules in which his son's very life had been destroyed. Gul Evek and Sub-commander Sedeka had known of Chakotay's attachment to his wife, his deep and abiding love for Kathryn Janeway. Not for nothing did Sedeka appear here ahead of the other Cardassians. Not for nothing did she seek out Chakotay. If they could hurt his son, then they have struck a blow where they knew Chakotay might never recover. With that in mind, they set about to destroy an honest man. Sedeka's seduction had not been chance.

 It was planned, vindictive and callously planned.

 They got rid of Chakotay and sent a warning to the rest: more is to come.

 That is why, when they rose from the long , gleaming table that witnessed the rise and fall of Dorvan V, Kolopak knew that this was not the end of the Cardassians's mission with them.

The look in Gul Evek's eyes could not be mistaken.

 It filled Kolopak with great dread, a terrible unease that the trials of the people of Dorvan V was only just beginning.

 Koloak was afraid.

 ******

 Captain Kathryn Janeway sat staring at the nebula that showed like a giant wad of cotton candy on the viewscreen. It was deep colours of pinks and peach, interspersing with lighter blotches of white. Normally the sight of a nebula like the one she was staring at filled her with excitement. It always stirred something in her. It was like peeling off layers and layers as they entered it, to discover an inexhaustible fount of delicious particles that promised anything from a new medical wonder cure to a cup of coffee. She'd opt for the coffee if she didn't feel so miserable. Most of the time the nebulas were predictable, it offered few surprises and were mostly to be ignored unless they hid something which her ship's sensors could pick up a ten parsecs away anyway. With their knowledge gained from explorers like Kirk and his crew, they knew what lay deep in the heart of the cloud. They could fly through it, they could harness its strength, collect omicron particles that could prove energy saving, or used as a weapon of mass destruction.

 Sometimes, like the Enyocine Nebula, they had hidden depths. It's what she loved so much about her work. Exploring the unknown and finding answers.

 Somehow, the Enyocine Nebula didn't attract her attention quite as it did in the past.

 But right now, she could kill anything that moved that appeared vaguely like a Native American face.

 She shook herself mentally. Where did that thought come from? Why did she feel so vindictive?

 Her heart still bled. Her mind was in a whirl of shattered emotions, their delicate balance ruthlessly disturbed as she battled to find answers, some way that she could deny what she had seen or experienced, or some way of expiating guilt and eradicating the event as if it never happened and in an instant Chakotay would be standing at the entrance to the bridge, his beloved, smiling face showing none of the aggressive passion she witnessed. A free, relaxed Chakotay who would lift her high up any moment and ask forcefully:

 "Have I told you lately how much I love you, Kathryn Janeway-Chakotay?"

 Yet, her senses, her rationale, if ever she depended on it in those moments immediately after the crushing impact, failed her and brutally pointed her to the fact of what she witnessed. How could anyone even remotely find anything that could redeem the guilty of such a wanton occurrence?

 It seemed impossible.

 Right now, she didn't want to entertain any possibility, however far fetched it sounded, as a reasonable explanation.

 A woman - Cardassian - would still be impaled above Chakotay, and that rankled. It destroyed her own sensibilities, her own vision of her husband as a refined man who shrank away from the dirt, the shameful and the obscene. Hadn't he been once the victim himself of such a humiliating experience?

 She didn't want to find excuses for Chakotay. The hurt lingered something terrible, and hot on the heels of that hurt, riding on the rearguard of her defences came the bitterness, the anger, the hate.

 How could she not feel it? When she returned to her cabin last night, she wanted to hurl the photograph of Chakotay against the bulkhead.

 She had done all of her screaming, all of her tears, and when the anger came, the tears made way for a new brand of crying: angry, bitter, disillusioned. When that had stopped, she clutched painfully at her chest and remembered Hannah when her fingers curled around the familiar form of her locket.

 Remember Hannah.

 Chakotay didn't know about Hannah.

 Hannah.

 Kathryn emitted a light sob, so unobtrusive that her First Officer didn't notice as he too, kept staring at the nebula.

 It was still morning, Alpha shift was halfway through and she knew that very soon she'd have to escape to her ready room just to centre herself again. Her warring emotions were rocking out of control…

 She had no centre. What was she doing, fooling herself? What centre? What equilibrium? There was nothing. Her foundations had been ripped from beneath her and now, she felt she was drifting. She couldn't sleep, and her thoughts - evil thoughts! - betrayed her sickeningly as they pulled her in one direction only.

 One direction.

 She tried to picture Chakotay when he had been on this vessel with her, taking a well-earned break. The smiling face, the deep dimples, the eyes that always looked like they were teasing but rested kindly, loving on her, made way for another image.

 A face, contorted with lust; eyes wild with obscene passion and hands that grasped, fingers that dug into purple-bluish and skin a voice that rasped.

 She closed her eyes tight, to dispel the image.

 Leave me… leave me…please…

 She must have given a cry, because Eamon Daley looked at her askance, then turned his attention to the nebula again as she nodded to him. She sighed and sagged back into the depths of the command chair.

 She had no idea, no idea at all what she was going to do.

 She was still reeling from the shock of seeing him, and her heart was battered, bruised beyond measure, to a point where she wondered if she would ever look at her husband the same way again.

 What excuse could he possibly have?

 What excuse?

 A month ago he had sworn again his love, and she had been humbled by the power of his devotion to her. He had been attentive to her needs, protected her when she thought it so old-fashioned of him to want to protect her. He had simply said:

 "Indulge me, Kathryn Janeway. I love you too much and care too much to be ignorant of dangers lurking, or to be complacent."

 "You're not complacent, Chakotay," she assured him then.

 "I'll never be complacent about our relationship, Kathryn. Our love is a miracle, you hear me? A miracle..."

 A miracle. That's what Chakotay said. A miracle.

 She had managed to deflect the questions successfully that had inevitably come from Eamon Daley, Dr Benaren and Magnus Rollins and she could fool them. For now. At some point they were going to know something was afoot.

 "Captain."

 The hail came from Akbor Blok, her Chief of Operations.

 "Yes?" She rose from the command chair and nodded quickly to Eamon Daley to take over.

 When she stood next to Akbor at his station, he said softly.

 "It's an incoming message for you, Captain. From Commander Chakotay."

 "Thank you. Direct it to my ready room," she ordered, then she walked briskly to her ready room. She had not shown how the news tugged fiercely at her insides. What could Chakotay say that would appease her? What could he possibly say that would make her forgive him what he had done?

 Yet, strangely, as wondrously incongruous as it may have appeared, she had wanted him to contact her, to follow her even. Some part of her being wanted him to run after her and explain everything and kiss away all her fears.

 But, she had to remember a lust-filled face and all her bitterness returned.

 She could not listen to him, not listen and hear things like "I'm sorry, it will not happen again."

 God! Her heart cried.

 Her husband in the arms of another woman.

 Looking like he enjoyed making love to her.

 Something in Kathryn threatened to break again. She couldn't live with it. It was too difficult, too difficult to bear.

 The crude invitation.

 Once Chakotay told her how Caroline Meissen invited him to do the same.

  _"Will you help fuck me, Chakotay?"_

 The same invitation, the exact words, not one less, not one more, just placed and positioned in crude reversion of syntax:

  _"Will you help me fuck Chakotay?"_

 Just before she switched on her vid-com, she whispered tremulously:

 "How can I forgive him?"

 Already, her eyes misted with the tears she had battled vainly to keep at bay all morning.

 **

 The silence was as uncomfortable as it was palpable. They stared at each other for long moments.

 "Kathryn..."

 Chakotay's eyes were bloodshot, as if he never slept. He missed probably two days' shave. The message had come from the Ormskirk and the thought flashed: why wasn't he on Dorvan V? She wondered why she should care at all. Still, he looked…guilty.

 "Chakotay."

 How did she sound so...cold?

 "I - there is nothing I can say, Kathryn, that will in any way - "

 She closed her eyes. Saw again the lust-filled face.

 "Please..." she heard his voice. It sounded hoarse, hollow...

 "You're right, Chakotay. There is nothing to say, is there?"

 When she looked at the screen again, he was still staring at her.

 " - that will in any way take away - your - your pain," he stammered.

 She gave a deep sigh.

 "No."

 "I understand you're hurt, Kathryn..."

 "Surprise me, Chakotay."

 He looked away, then turned to face her again. He looked...beaten, she thought. But then, she hardened herself, steeled herself against feeling any sympathy.

 "No, this isn't going to work. I - forgive me. I'll not trouble you again. I did you a grave injustice..."

 "Are you going to tell me it's not what I saw?"

 "Dammit, Kathryn."

 She almost wanted to laugh. The man facing her, her husband, faithful to the end of his days, had a strange woman straddle him, impaled on him. What excuse could he have?

 "You were a willing participant, Chakotay. I - I can't get past that. I'm sorry."

 "No, I'm the one - "

  _"Will you help me fuck Chakotay?"_

 "I can't do this, Chakotay. Please, go now..."

 Then suddenly, the console went blank and the blue and white of the Federation insignia stared at her. She looked at it for such longs moments that she was unaware of the hot tears burning down her cheeks again.

 "It's the end...the end...the end... And I haven't told him about Hannah..."

 *******

 Chakotay stared stupidly at the Federation insignia. Kathryn cut him off in mid-sentence. He gave sigh of resignation. The hurt lay too deep.

 Too deep.

 He was never going to convince her of his innocence.

 When all was said and done, all Kathryn could see, was him with Sedeka on top of him.

 He would not blame her if she never wanted to see him again.

 No, he would not blame her at all.

 He was already in hell.

 How much deeper could he go?

 ****

  **END CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the end of BOOK TWO: TEARS.
> 
> Readers please note; I'll stop here for a short period. Then I'll post all of BOOK 3: ABYSS [6 chapters]. I'm working on a brand new story so that will keep me busy for quite some time.

* * *

**BOOK TWO: TEARS**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**June 2370**

 The USS Ormskirk was on its way to Earth. Commander Chakotay, summoned to sick bay by his doctor and closest friend, hurried to the medical bay to see Doctor Karkoff. He had been in limbo the past two days. The first day he requested some off duty and kept to his quarters, wallowing in the darkness. Roger Petranoff had given him a worried look before granting Chakotay's request, after which the first officer secluded himself. That night Sergei had barged in and cornered him in his office just off his quarters.

 "What are you doing here?" he asked Chakotay. "You're two days early. You were supposed to be on Dorvan V advising your people - " Sergei looked like he had been running from sick bay. He appeared flushed, his freckles looking extra deep and his copper hair mussed.

 "I know what I was supposed to do, Sergei," Chakotay snapped.

 "Hey, you don't have to snap at me. I'm your friend."

 "All the more reason to do so," came the retort.

 "What's wrong, Chakotay?" Sergei's voice had softened, there was a concerned edge to it.

 Chakotay looked at him with fierce, heated eyes. He hadn't shaved in two days and it showed. He hadn't felt like doing anything. The talks had collapsed, and even now, walking to sick bay, he wasn't certain whether his presence at the Conference would have helped anyway. His father had sent him a message via subspace and Chakotay had accepted the outcome with mild dismay, though not with surprise. His people were fanatical about remaining on Dorvan V. Still, Evek and that female Sedeka succeeded in getting him off Dorvan V. But it was Kathryn's eyes that haunted him, that refused to leave him. No matter how he turned in his half sleep state, or when awake, her eyes were there: filled with pain. He could not forget that look, the indescribable pain in her eyes.

 Sergei sensed something was wrong; something of cataclysmic proportions.

 "What's happened, comrade?" Sergei asked again.

 "Everything!" It burst from Chakotay, a deep tearing cry that came from his heart. "Everything!"

He wanted to scream his own pain, wanted to punish himself with relentless intensity, so that the only thing he could feel, was pain…pain…pain…

 "Chakotay...comrade, sit down. You're unsettled - "

 "Unsettled doesn't begin to explain, Sergei. Oh, dear God!" he wailed again.

 "Tell me, my friend." Sergei dreaded what Chakotay was going to tell him. Dreaded it. It was in the feared, expectant look in his eyes.

 "I - - I..."

 "Something to do with Kathryn, Chakotay?"

 Something in him caved. He fell back in his chair and wiped his brow with a furious swipe. When he nodded, Sergei remained quiet for a few seconds. Chakotay could hear his friend's soft sigh.

 "Tell me…"

 "I slept with another woman," he said bluntly and before Sergei could recover from his shock, Chakotay added, "and Kathryn…Kathryn - she - she arrived on Dorvan V, at out house - our house…" Chakotay stammered as he spoke. "Kathryn - she saw Sedeka and me…fucking our lives away…"

 He had no more tears, just a hollow feeling inside him. He registered absently that Sergei had gone quiet. Somewhere in his quarters he heard a scraping of a chair and then Sergei was seated opposite him, touching his shoulder in much the same way Kolopak did.

 "And Kathryn took off like an injured doe…" Sergei said with intuition.

 "Yes…"

 "You're guilty, Chakotay?" Sergei asked.

 Chakotay wondered why Sergei had inflected his voice quite in that way. A statement and a question rolled into one.

 "I am…I'm not feeling too good, Sergei. I'm sick, sick to my stomach. Kathryn - you don't know how hurt she looked. She looked…lost, like I've beaten her senseless, Sergei. And I - I put the look there, and I don't know if it will ever go away. I hurt her Sergei, I hurt her something terrible… I hurt something terrible…"

 He had started to shiver violently, and waves of nausea overcame him again. He hadn't heard Sergei giving any commands when he started wheezing, his chest burning and his stomach beginning to heave, but the next instant, both of them were in sick bay and he was lying on a biobed. Minutes later, after Sergei had treated him, the nausea was gone, and although he still shivered slightly, it didn't make him feel any better. He had been seriously distressed then. Sergei had waited patiently for him, and when he was ready, in quiet, desperate tones related to his best friend the rest of the story.

 "Now, I don't blame her if she never speaks with me again," he said forlornly as he sat up on the biobed. Sergei had just stared at him for long, penetrating moments. Then, when he spoke finally, Chakotay could have died at the concern and compassion in his best friend's voice.

 "You know, Chak, I'm going to say something that may sound like I'm sticking up for you. A lot of guys probably would have trivialised such a thing by suggesting to their partners it wasn't all that bad. You're feeling seriously out of it, comrade, and that more than speaks for your cause - "

 "I have a cause? Sergei, I had sex with a Cardassian woman and my wife stumbles in on the act. I have a cause?"

 Chakotay smiled grimly as the turbolift doors opened on the floor of the medical bay. He had been too distraught two days ago, but he had been glad Sergei took no for an answer when he came to his cabin and demanded to see him two days ago. Sergei had given him hope.

 "Everything you've related to me, my brother, is so contrary to your nature I'm surprised you haven't seen it yourself. Then again, you were not in a state to think rationally, and neither was Kathryn. I don't think she can see things clearly even at this time."

 "Yeah, right. What she clearly sees, is me with - "

 "Stop it, Chak. You're punishing yourself too harshly."

 "And why shouldn't I? You didn't see Kathryn's face, Sergei," he had pleaded urgently. "You didn't!"

 "Hey, calm down, will you?"

 Chakotay had taken a few deep breaths, trying to calm down again and when he looked at Sergei, there was hope in the doctor's eyes.

 "What is it?"

 "Did you take anything from what you had eaten or drank that day?"

 Chakotay stared at him open-mouthed, then he clamped shut again. He hadn't thought about it. In fact, he had forgotten. Then he stalked purposefully out of sick bay without replying and several minutes later returned to a still waiting and surprised Sergei.

 "I don't hold out much hope, Doc," he had said, "because whatever the result, it doesn't change anything, okay?"

 Sergei had taken the phials and samples.

 "Give me two days, Chak."

 Chakotay had given him a severe nod, then quietly left sick bay again. In his quarters he sat morosely staring unseeingly at the viewport, the only image on his brain, Kathryn's face. Kathryn had been so distressed that she was ready to shoot him. She had pointed her phaser at him. If she had killed him then, it would have been more merciful.

 ******

 Dr Sergei Karkoff waited impatiently for Chakotay to enter sickbay. He had been analysing and collecting data for the past 36 hours. He gave a sigh. It had taken some work and then more to get to the bottom of everything. When Chakotay had shared his woes with him, he had been shocked at first, and terribly sympathetic to Kathryn's pain. Kathryn must have been traumatised out of her wits, he realised, as Chakotay recounted to story to him.

 It was shocking. That was still mostly the only reaction anyone who knew Kathryn and Chakotay, could have had. The two were so deeply attached that it humbled most of those who knew the couple well. Even he had looked at his own wife, Svetlana, with new eyes and fell in love with her all over again. Kathryn and Chakotay had taught most of them never to be complacent about a good relationship. Both of them had walked a long road of loneliness before their paths crossed. What once were lonely strangers, were now two people who made a deep and abiding commitment to one another, shrugging off their old fears of being hurt, triumphantly embracing the freedom to love again in the face of those same possibilities that always lurked round the corner.

 Sergei closed his eyes momentarily. If Svetlana… He felt Chakotay's pain almost as deeply as Chakotay felt it himself. The man had been dealt a raw deal, and what happened had drawn an innocent Kathryn in in a manner that she didn't deserve.

 Kathryn was too refined, too cultured and too principled, with a depth in her that shunned obscenities, shied away from the crudities that individuals like Sub-commander Sedeka and Caroline Meissen indulged in. When he thought about it, those two women had something in common. They had little regard for the next person's sensibilities; they thought nothing of destroying an innocent person. He wondered idly whether Chakotay hadn't himself though how alike Sedeka the Cardassian and Caroline The Viper were. Caroline Meissen manipulated, fooled around, used men to feed her appetite, and so did Sub-commander Sedeka. The latter though, did it with a far more chilling agenda, and that was to destroy her victim.

 Now Sergei waited for Chakotay to get to sick bay. Two days ago Chakotay had given him the samples of everything he had taken while he and Sedeka had been together. He had to give Chakotay his due. His rigid Starfleet training had made him look deeper than the surface after the act, acting with the instinct sharpened by his training. He did not destroy the evidence, although it had been a weakness that Chakotay had been unable to see right through Sedeka. Sergei supposed the Cardassian had camouflaged her agenda with beauty, kind smiles, interested looks and friendliness. Most people were adept at putting up such a show when underneath that veneer lurked a disturbingly devious character. Caroline had been the same and while all of Chakotay's friends could see the cracks in Caroline's veneer, Chakotay had been blinded. He couldn't blame his friend. Chakotay had been in love with Caroline, though obviously, the same couldn't be said for Sedeka. She had masterminded a seduction that… Sergei shook his head. He didn't want to think of the godawful ramifications for both Chakotay and Kathryn.

 Kathryn was expecting their baby. He didn't think that Chakotay knew, though Svetlana had told him, Sergei, and Dalene had told Svetlana. It was something Kathryn had to tell Chakotay herself, or was on the point of doing so, unless…

 The news he had to give Chakotay. He wondered how his friend was going to take it… Chakotay was like a brother to him, and right now, there was a dark cloud over Chakotay's head. The past couple of days that was how Chakotay looked. Dark, brooding, unhappy. He had apparently contacted Kathryn the minute he boarded the Ormskirk and Sergei surmised that Kathryn had not been in a mood to talk, let alone forgive her husband a transgression that was a old as time itself. Chakotay was the proverbial faithful partner. It was ingrained in him. That much was clear when they started out at the Academy, and Chakotay didn't have a cheating bone in his body.

 His friend's instinct was right.

 Something didn't add up. Maybe a lot of things didn't add up. Sergei shook his head. Then again, the results of his analysis made sense, and in the chaos there could be a light at the end of the tunnel. But the evidence was alarming as he studied the results one last time.

 The door of sickbay opened and Chakotay entered, looking around furtively. His friend didn't want an audience. That much was clear and Sergei could understand that. It was a sensitive matter, involving two friends very dear to him. Kathryn was Irina's godmother and she doted on Irina whenever she was back on Earth.

 "Well, Doc, have you found anything?" Chakotay asked, his voice sounding clearly sceptical. "I don't think it would mean much, you know. I did what I did and drew my wife into this chaos and made her unhappy…"

 "Shut up, Chak, and listen to me carefully," Sergei retorted, almost angered by the way Chakotay spoke so off-hand and bitter about his experience. "This is your future you're talking about - "

 "One I screwed up."

 "Jeez, help me out here, Chak. You want to put yourself down forever, then get out of this sick bay."

 Chakotay's hands went up as if to defend himself. He didn't smile, but did relent a little.

 "Okay, Sergei, what have you got?"

 "You're ready for this, Chakotay?"

 "Yes."

 Sergei nodded and he started to point to the data on the screen.

 "Chakotay, what do you know of Valerian?"

 "Valerian?"

 "Yes."

 Chakotay, standing hands on his hips, frowned.

 "It's - it’s a herb, used for medicinal purposes. It grew on Earth, Northern Hemisphere up to the 21st century, if I'm not mistaken."

 "Good. You know your botany."

 "What about it?"

 "Did you know that two hundred years ago, when the ancestors of your tribe settled on Dorvan V, they introduced this plant there as an alien plant which now forms part of the planet's natural vegetation?"

 Chakotay shook his head, the frown deepening.

 "It's not only used as an elixir for nausea and all sorts of other ailments, Chakotay."

 "What are you saying, Sergei? That it has some hidden properties?"

 "If you know what to look for, and how to use it in combination with other herbs…"

 "I don't understand - "

 "You will. Valerian root contains some essential oils and about 2% valepotriates per 10mg. The level of isovaltrates has the ability to create a hallucinogenic effect."

 "Wait a minute, Sergei. Valerian has a foul taste, very sour to bitter."

 "Precisely. Enter soma. You know of soma? The Aldus Huxley hallucinogenic popularised by a simple little novel called Brave New World?"

 Chakotay shook his head and Sergei wondered at what point Chakotay was going to get it He wanted to knock his friend's head against something, or box the snot out of him.

 "The ephedrine essence of the intermedia species - "

 "Another hallucinogen?"

 "No, but it induces some drowsiness, used for the treatment of old Earth conditions as hay fever and asthma - "

 Chakotay's whole body was primed for something that wanted to uncoil into a fit of rage, or a hellish scream.

 "Is this another plant introduced to Dorvan V?" Chakotay asked.

 "Not to my knowledge. It's an indigenous plant that has no leaves. Thrives in desert conditions - "

 "A succulent?"

 "Also perfectly balanced to eradicate the foul taste of valerian. You wouldn't know what hit you, Chak, with this."

 Chakotay paled, and his eyes became heated - heated and angry. Sergei shrank from the look in his friend's face.

 "There's more, I suppose?"

 "The coup de grace. And this little plant is the one doing all the work. No smell, no taste, no aftertaste, no lingering smell, nothing. It's as clear as a shiny raindrop. It took me too many hours to search the database to find the match for this one. It's actually very rare on Dorvan V, but it's also an alien plant introduced to your home world by the first colonists. It's all but extinct on Earth, and thrives only in the most hardy conditions. I've even got a picture for you."

 Sergei flicked a few frames and they looked at a plant Chakotay had never seen. Small yellow flower, with one decumbent leaf, its points curled upwards, towards the sun. It was not a strange plant, Sergei thought; he had seen many strange prehensile plants in his life, and many other strange shrubs, but the one he showed Chakotay was the one he was looking for. Chakotay stared for long moments at the plant, his interest piqued.

 "What is it?"

 "Datura. All parts of this plant - flower, leaf, root - contain a highly effective narcotic. All parts are used. In the right combinations, the hyoscyamine, scopolamine and atropine - "

"Atropine?"

"Yes. It causes fever, chills, affects motor coordination, hallucination, failure to recall events of the narcosis - "

Chakotay paled visibly, and let out a curse.

"My God! What is Sedeka?"

"A brilliant scientist, my friend. She used Dorvan V's own vegetation to prepare the most lethal hallucinogenic compound I've ever seen in my life."

"Christ, Sergei…"

 "You can stop those profanities, comrade."

 "Sorry. Sedeka really did a number on me…"

 "She certainly did. These three plants - or rather, certain agents of the three, used in a delicate balance so that it left no trace elements in the drink or food that you ingested. A brilliant cocktail to use as a weapon. You would not have tasted or smelled anything strange, Chakotay. In fact, I prepared the same compound, and it smells a lot like your favourite cider…"

 "I don't believe it."

 "So, you refused the Cardassian brandy - highly potent intoxicant - because if you had to suspect Sedeka of foul play beforehand, you'd refuse the brandy and accept the milder, innocuous looking and tasting and smelling table wine Sedeka offered you."

 "It was not in the brandy?"

 "But it was in one of the dishes Sedeka prepared. You ingested some of that too, Chakotay. I found trace elements in your urine sample you gave me. That was a stroke of instinct, Chak, that you did think to bring samples of everything on board to be tested under lab conditions."

 "I almost killed Sedeka, Sergei."

 "You should have, Chakotay. But you wouldn't have. Still, Sedeka alive is a great danger, a great danger to you, Chakotay. I'd advise you to steer clear of the likes of her."

 "So what effect did the hallucinogens have?" Chakotay asked, looking more miserable as more of the facts came to light.

 That was when Sergei sighed deeply. He rose stiffly from his chair and walked into the sick bay area. He indicated that Chakotay sit down on the biobed.

 "I'm going to ask you a few personal questions, Chak, if you don't mind."

 Chakotay nodded, his hands at his sides, gripping the edge of the bed. Sergei could see the nervous twitching in Chakotay's jaw, and they way his knuckles showed white as he gripped on the edge.

 "Go ahead, Sergei," Chakotay whispered. Sergei's heart burned. He felt sorry for Chakotay. His hand touched Chakotay's knee in a consoling gesture.

 "Did you feel strange or different after you drank the Cardassian cider? Think carefully and try to remember the first drink."

 It looked Chakotay struggled as he rubbed his brow in a tired gesture.

 "I felt light-headed. I thought it unusual to feel like that, but thought it was because - because - " Chakotay rubbed his temples again. "I hadn't taken any wine for more than a month before that. In fact, the last time was - was - "

 "When, Chak?"

 "I spent a few days with Kathryn on board the Crimond. She was on leave for a few days and we had some wine, champagne, table wine mostly."

 "So on Dorvan, it would account for the light-headedness?"

 "Yes."

 "No, Chakotay. That drink was the first injection, so to speak. The first draught was a sedative. I've established that a certain amount would render the hallucinogen; a small quantity like one gulp, would make you relax. Not like brandy or other banned ales. This is way different."

 "Why do you say that?"

 "On datura alone, it works with the power of suggestion. All Sedeka had to do was tell you how beautiful Kathryn was. You would see images of Kathryn while looking at Sedeka. Pretty much as if Sedeka was Kathryn herself."

 "I - oh, my God…"

 "You thought at times she was Kathryn - "

 "Speaking with Kathryn's voice, moving with her body, the - the hair - "

 "And so it altered the conscious and diminished the conscience, Chakotay. I'm sorry, my friend. You couldn't have known what hit you. You didn't think you were doing something wrong because - "

 "I was doing it with Kathryn…"

 "Yes. There's more. Your drinks and the one dish that you ate of, also created the effect of persistent vision - "

 "Even though it was Sedeka, I kept seeing Kathryn's face…"

 "Yes. Remember, you said when Kathryn ran to the launching pads and you followed her, that the image of Kathryn's face wouldn't leave you, right?"

 "I thought I was too upset."

 "More than that. The drug's effects in reverse. When you saw the real Kathryn, it triggered your conscious. You "woke up" literally.

 "And after she left in her shuttle, I kept seeing her face, Sergei. It kept coming, even now…"

 "The persistent vision is the lasting effect, Chakotay. I'm sorry. It will be weeks before that clears out of your system completely - "

 "And I'm left with seeing an image of my distraught wife in every waking moment, Sergei. Hell, you don't know how it is. I'm walking down a corridor and I see her face. On the bridge… It's like being reminded on an hourly basis of my transgression, like seeing the crime through Kathryn's eyes…"

 Sergei watched as Chakotay choked up, unable to prevent his eyes from reddening and filling with a sheen of tears.

 "I keep seeing her face, the hurt…"

 "I understand, my friend. Now, you need a motive for all of this, Chakotay. Sedeka was very, very devious. She knew what she was doing. You were a target long before you arrived on Dorvan V…"

Sergei watched the continued dismay on his friend's face as the information sank in.

 "I should have been at the talks. I might have been able to sway some opinions. My - my people were adamant to remain there. It only needed a shift in the DMZ, Sergei. I might have been able to succeed."

 "But the Cardassians need something from Dorvan V, right?"

 "A halfway post, for provisions and stockpiling armaments, I suspected… It was an elaborate way to manipulate me off Dorvan V."

 "I guess so. And if Kathryn hadn't happened there at that moment, Sedeka would have kept you chained to your own bed; she would have planted suggestions in your hallucinogenic state that you weren't interested in the talks, anything, anything, comrade. She could make you do anything she wanted you to…."

 Chakotay sat hunched for the next few minutes, his shoulders shaking. When he looked at Sergei again, he shook his head.

 "She used me. I was putty in her hands. I fell for it, Sergei. What was I thinking?"

 "You're innocent, Chakotay."

 "Innocent? My wife was made a victim!"

 "You'll have to tell her…"

 Sergei almost wished he hadn't said it. Chakotay slid off the biobed and grabbed his arm in a vice grip.

 "How can I do that? She'll never believe me, Sergei. She's made up her mind. Anything, anything at all that I might tell her that is the truth will lose its plausibility because I still can't get past the damned image of Sedeka and me doing things that - that she saw. Kathryn - " Chakotay paused and drew in a large gulp of air. "Kathryn could never trust me again, Sergei."

 "She might listen - "

 "No, Sergei. Faith, trust… they are the foundations of our union, Sergei. You know the deal. I didn't come to Kathryn easily, nor did Kathryn entrust her life to me just like that. We had both been wary to trust again. Now when we've done that, what happened? I pulled the foundations from under us, Sergei. There is nothing left, understand? Nothing! I love Kathryn Janeway, I will die for her. But, Sergei, I can't look her in the eyes and bear to see the suspicion there, to see her lose faith…"

 "Don't you think she at least deserves to know what happened to you?"

 "And the next time I leave on a mission, Kathryn will wonder in whose arms she'll catch me the next time?"

 Sergei shook his head. Chakotay was heading for disaster, and he seemed powerless to prevent the careening into hell.

 "Don't you think you underestimate Kathryn, Chak? She is a scientist. She will analyse the information in the same way I did - "

 "The woman in her will respond. She'll think me stupid to have been manipulated by a clever Cardassian. I have a history of being used, right? What will Kathryn think?"

 "She'll forgive you - "

 "When? When the moon turns to blood?"

 "Dammit, Chakotay! Speak to her. Ask her what she was doing on Dorvan V when any information to you could have been relayed via subspace…"

 That rocked Chakotay up for a few agonising seconds.

 "I - I never thought about it. The whole business had been so traumatic… I - "

 "You need to speak to her…"

 When the sick bay doors opened, the Chief nurse entered, with two crew members. The sick bay was filling up. Sergei sighed. He was hitting a wall with Chakotay. He had done what he had to do, given Chakotay all the evidence of his innocence. But Chakotay was a proud man. A very private and proud man. It was not easy for him to admit to being manipulated by a beautiful and clever woman.

 "Promise me, Sergei, you will never tell Kathryn of this…"

 "It will save your life, comrade."

 "Promise me! I can't go to her with this, Sergei. It's like asking her to believe what she saw didn't happen."

 "Because you were a pawn in a political game, Chakotay - "

 "Think, Sergei! Picture me saying: _Kathryn, that business with the Cardassian. It's not what you saw…_ How lame do think that could be as an excuse?"

 "She will - "

 "And then, here's the classic _: Kathryn, you know, with Sedeka, I made a mistake. It won't happen again. Will you forgive me?"_ Do you have any idea how that sounds? I have no grounds, Sergei, none at all, because no matter how sorry I am, it won't eradicate a damned image."

 "I genuinely think you should tell her - "

 "Promise, Sergei."

 Sergei shook his head, aware that the two crewmembers and nurse were watching them as they moved about, cocking their ears. He sighed. The conversation was over. Chakotay was not going to tell Kathryn. _He_ couldn't tell Kathryn.

 Somehow, he sensed the recipe for a failed relationship sat in Chakotay's inability to believe in his wife.

 ****

 Kathryn stood facing him in the lounge of their home. Chakotay, when he entered, had not been surprised to see her packed bags stacked neatly on the floor next to her. Her arms were at her sides, like she was standing on the bridge of the Crimond, issuing orders.

 He knew it was over the minute he entered the apartment and saw her face. If anything, it was even more distraught than that night when he woke from his drug induced state and saw her terrible pain. In her left hand she held a PADD, and for a moment he thought it was going to slip from her fingers, so loosely did she hold it.

 Before he could even ask why she had come to Dorvan V to see him, the intention was ripped from him by her stance. Even as she looked at her most beautiful, even as he remembered nights of passion with her when he had laced his fingers in her incredible hair, nights when she slept dreamlessly in his arms, even as he remembered burning kisses, he knew that Kathryn had closed herself off from him.

 So the question, along with the intense urge to go on his knees and beg her forgiveness, - for he couldn't find any rest - was lost in the way she stood before him. Resolute. Her face was devoid of colour; her eyes dark and sunken and haunted; her lips trembled, yet she remained resolute. Then when he looked at her hands again he saw how her fingers also trembled. She held the PADD to him.

 "Here, Chakotay," she said tremulously. "You have to watch this…"

 He remained speechless. Somehow, the tone of her voice, the desolation of her words sent him a warning: a portent that in the next few minutes, his world would come to an end, and that the partnership of Kathryn and Chakotay which prided itself on its strength and incorruptibility and the power of its love would be no more. The foundations had eroded.

 The thought registered with fierce clarity: who would have thought?

 He could offer no hello, no greeting, no enquiring after a good journey, no excuses, no apology, no appeal for absolution.

 Nothing.

 He took the PADD from her, hardly noticing how their fingers touched and the late spring of an electric charge fizzled the moment he had the PADD in his hand and the memory of the touch was no more. He flicked it on.

 Her voice sounded thin, cold, hollow…

 "You had been filmed, did you know that?"

 He had never seen the little holo-imager with the flickering red light responsible for these despicable pictures. Never noticed anything except - except copulating with Sedeka in crude, bestial ways.

 Every picture scrolled relentlessly. Obscene anal sex, oral sex, any kind of sex. The pictures were there. Punishing, taunting, devastatingly real; Sedeka smiling maliciously, sitting on top of him, Sedeka looking like she orgasmed straight into the imager with him lodged against her ass. His face, contorted with extreme… shocking crudity. Other pictures… His penis firmly in Sedeka's mouth…his hand in her hair, looking like he was forcing her closer…

 It was unbelievable.

 He remembered Sergei's words: " _Sedeka alive is more dangerous than Sedeka dead…"_

Shock kept him rooted to the spot. He was shivering violently. When he looked at Kathryn, the shame crashed on him in never-ending torrents of torment.

 "She sent it to me on the Crimond. I should thank her. It was not a ship-wide communication, Chakotay…"

 When at last he could open his mouth, her name tore painfully from deep inside him.

 "Oh, Kathryn…"

 "It's all so…real, isn't it?"

 The intention he had of defying his own edict of not telling Kathryn of his innocence, fell away from him. The last defence was no more as Kathryn collected her luggage. He had hardly noticed the beep at the front door.

 "Good-bye, Chakotay…"

 "I have nothing to give you, Kathryn. Whatever kindness you have left in you, please, let me know what you're going to do…"

 Kathryn paused, a fraction in which she seemed to weigh his words. She gave a tired, resigned sigh, her eyes again like that of an injured doe.

 "Maybe one day, Chakotay," she said softly, "maybe one day, I can forgive you…"

 Then Kathryn left his house, as stealthily as she had come into it when he waited for her at the transporter platforms and she didn't come, she left.

 There was a silence that sifted into the house, pervading the air, making the late afternoon thick with the dread of loneliness.

 "Kathryn…?"

 She was gone.

 Chakotay stared in numb shock at the door for endless minutes, and when he could move again, his eyes fixed on the mantelpiece.

 Twin Eagles was gone.

 It lay on the floor, the sections where the wings joined, broken. The eagles, separated, screamed at him in agonised accusation.

 He remembered their conversation, the words thrusting like sharp needles into his brain:

  _"They'll survive, Kathryn"_

_"And if it breaks?"_

_"Well, then, Kathryn, we'll just walk through another baptism of fire, won't we?"_

 He wanted to die.

 Die quietly.

 Die

 quietly.

 *****

 END CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

**< <<<<<<<<<<THE END OF BOOK 2 >>>>>>>>>>>**

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does Kathryn deal with the fallout of Chakotay's transgression? Is there hope for him? For them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of BOOK THREE: ABYSS
> 
> In which readers will see how their marriage takes a downward spiral. 
> 
> The story thus far:  
> 1\. Kathryn and Chakotay marry  
> 2\. They have a great marriage. My question at the very start of the story: If they have everything working for them - love, trust, loyalty, surely nothing can rend it asunder? So something happened.  
> 3\. Sedeka happened. This Cardassian was used to lure Chakotay from Dorvan so that the peace talks could be derailed.  
> 4\. Kathryn, pregnant, arrives at Dorvan to surprise him of their coming child. Instead she catches them in the act of sex.  
> 5\. Sergei Karkoff determines that Chakotay had been drugged with a very elaborate cocktail of poisons. That Kathryn caught Chakotay with Sedeka was just an unexpected boon.
> 
> Now, Book Three.  
> I would dearly love to hear your thoughts on various issues expounded here, e.g. would you forgive your nearest and dearest if something like that happened to you? Should Sergei not have informed Chakotay immediately of Kathryn's pregnanacy? that sort of thing.
> 
> Thank you all in advance for feedback that had already been given so far and feedback I shall accept with grace.

B **OOK THREE:  ABYSS**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN** ****

_Rubaiyat_

 

_For in the darkness there with death I dwell,_

_compound with interest ev'ry anguished cry_

_while ne'er the light so truly hidden well -_

_my bravest spirit, guide me till I die…_

                                                                                 

June 25 was a bright, sunny day. The gardens of Starfleet Command never looked more beautiful. Its sprawling lawns, lush even in the heat of summer, invited the visitor to laze in the shade of the trees dotted all over them. In the shade of a giant elm tree, Dalene Petranoff stood next to her husband, with Maris and Eugenie smiling at their new mother. Most of the visitors had left, and only Sergei Karkoff, Svetlana and Roger Petranoff, Dalene's brother, dawdled.

 Kathryn stood with them, a little to the side, reluctant to intrude on the small circle of newlyweds with their daughters in attendance. New daughters for Dalene, that was. They had taken to her immediately after their father had finally made the decision to separate from their mother. Dalene had been sparkling throughout the ceremony conducted by Admiral Paris, who had given Andreas Buccholtz a stern warning: "Her life is in your hands. Treasure it always."

 Kathryn thought how significant Owen Paris's words were. She felt dead inside, her heart covered with a layer of ice. She slept badly and her nausea still lingered. It was unpleasant, more so because it was how she felt in her heart too. She couldn't get over what happened, couldn't get past vile images and a stiff, surly Chakotay who couldn't say a word in his own defence. It had been almost a week since she left their home and settled herself in her own parents' apartment. Chakotay had known that of the places she could go, her parents' apartment would have been a haven, but she had not heard from him since she left. She gave a shrug. What had she expected? That he run after her and assure her over and over of his innocence, begging her forgiveness? He had done none of that, and it remained just another tick against his name - one of the many she had made. Even if he did, she wondered if she could ever believe him…or trust him…

 She had looked again at the pictures in the sanctuary of her own apartment, though why she was doing it, she could put only a mild, if stupid, self-deprecating reason to it. She knew looking at it kept her own bitterness, her hurt, her outrage fanned. It also sprang out of a perverse desire to punish herself.

 She had not wanted to examine the look on Chakotay's face the two times he had tried to explain his complicity to her. He looked shattered, but every time her rationale wanted to acknowledge that he was hurt or still hurting, the injured part of her rebelled against it, blanked out the hurt and remorseful look and laid bare the rawness of his face as he… No she didn't want to think of what happened, she didn't want to think of Chakotay.

 The wedding group looked happy, now. Earlier, before the proceedings started, they wanted to know where Chakotay was. Surely, if his Captain and the CMO of the Ormskirk were present, Chakotay had no reason to be absent from something he had sworn he wanted to attend? At first they had been curious, then they were concerned and, as the day proceeded, appeared to accept it and duly continued to be happy. She grimaced. She couldn't blame them. Dalene was her best friend who deserved to be happy on her wedding day. They couldn't be burdened with the unhappiness of others.

 She had been grateful that Sergei had fielded the awkward questions about Chakotay's absence. Chakotay had left Earth again for an undisclosed destination to go into deep meditation. Kathryn hadn't thought how good an excuse it was until Sergei mentioned it to her. But Sergei, when he had seen her this morning, had corralled her first thing. Svetlana had given her a reassuring nod which made her think that Sergei must have discussed a good excuse with his wife. Kathryn could understand that, although she bristled a little that too many people would know about her woes.

 "They're going to ask about Chakotay," he said without preamble. Kathryn had already seen the look of disappointment in Dalene's eyes when she arrived there without her husband.

 "I know. I haven't thought what to tell them. It's been…hard, you understand?" she said, seeing in his eyes the compassion. She had given a sigh then. Sergei knew. He had to know. Chakotay would speak to no other person, and, he was also Chakotay's physician while they were on the Ormskirk. Kathryn took comfort that he would honour Chakotay's confidence, and by extension, hers.

 "Kathryn…" Sergei started, his eyes dark with concern, "don't let him stay away too long…"

 She didn't know what he meant, other than that he was just overly concerned that she might never want Chakotay back. Her mind had been in turmoil the last days, and she hadn't given any further thought about their future, and whether she could bear Chakotay back in her life, in her bed… She shivered violently at that thought.

 "I don't know, Sergei. I just left the house. I - " She didn't want to tell him of Sedeka's surprise gift to her. "I didn't much wait for him to explain anything - "

 "I'll tell everyone he went off-world for his deep meditation. He usually does that - " She shook her head in affirmation, though the others might still think he could have been at the wedding. It was an excuse that would have to do.

 "I know, and Sergei, thank you."

 "No problem, Kathryn. Chakotay is like a brother to me and I love him. What has happened, hell, I didn't think it could happen…"

 "That Chakotay cheated?"

 He had given her an intent look, a deeply penetrating gaze and Kathryn had the distinct feeling that there was more to what Chakotay had divulged to him.

 "No, not that, Kathryn, but your union. It was rock solid. Chakotay… Kathryn, I can assure you that Chakotay loves you deeply, as deeply as he ever will, despite - "

 "- what happened," she stated flatly.

 "Please, I know you don't believe me, you don't want to believe anything right now, but I've seen him on the Ormskirk. This business - it has hit him hard. Very hard. You know how private he is, how proud, Kathryn. For this to have happened - "

 "Sergei, you say that as if you want me to think that Chakotay was doing everything against his will, that he didn't plan it, that he is - he is _innocent_." She had looked at Sergei full of scepticism. One part of her wanted to believe Chakotay's friend, the other… Kathryn gave a sigh. The evidence weighed too heavily against her husband. Too heavily. Nothing could be more compromisingly damning than what she had seen. It cut through every conceivable precept that she might have been hallucinating the entire incident.

 "It's not how I meant, Kathryn. You have to give him credit too, that he is feeling very, very bad about it. That is real, you know. He - "

 Sergei paused and the air was heavy with expectation. He looked like he wanted to say something profound, then on a second thought changed his mind. Whatever it was, she wasn't going to listen to it rationally. She couldn't, and even if she did, she was going to view it with disbelief. Her heart ached. She had trusted Chakotay with her life; they based their relationship on that trust. Now, that was gone. She had been too overwrought to think straight. She was still not quite able to think straight about the whole matter.

 "I appreciate you want to stick up for him, Sergei, but he had done it, understand?" There was no doubt in her mind now that Sergei knew the nature of Chakotay's indiscretion.

 "You don't think there are any extenuating circumstances?"

 "How?" she asked, completely aghast that Sergei could even suggest that there could be a remote possibility that Chakotay could be innocent. He didn't look innocent on the holo-images… "You should have s - " Then she clamped shut, almost telling him about the pictures. If Sedeka could drive a hard, long, rusty nail deeper in the coffin that was Chakotay and Kathryn's great love story, started on a blind date, she couldn't have driven home a more searing, painful reality. It had taken her by shocked surprise and now, several days later, she could only imagine, nay, speculate on what had transpired between Sedeka and Chakotay after she had made such an ignominious and hasty exit. Sedeka had crowed triumphantly at not letting the whole sordid event stop on Dorvan. Perhaps she was that type of character: vindictive, intent on inflicting intense hurt.

 "If I told you, you'd not believe me anyway, Kathryn. But Kathryn, when you've given this thing careful thought - and I hope fervently you will, some time - please, will you speak to me about it?"

 She pondered a few seconds on his words, and when she nodded, he had given a little grin. Then his eyes had become serious again and she frowned.

 "Kathryn, does Chakotay know about Hannah?"

 Her eyes had gone wide, then she felt the warmth rising in her cheeks and she knew she was blushing. Her heart had hammered against her ribcage and she had felt slightly breathless. No, of course not. All the opportunities she had had…

 "That day I arrived on Dorvan… I was going to tell him…"

 "I guessed that might have been the reason, if you don't mind my saying so, Kathryn."

 "I would never have gone… I wanted to surprise him."

 "So you never told him?"

 "When he arrived home, I - something happened in the meantime," she admitted reluctantly. "It threw me again, perhaps more than when I saw them together…"

 "Knowing this woman, Sedeka… from what Chakotay has said of her, she would have made sure you didn't forget…"

 She hadn't known where to look, where to hide. Sergei sensed it intuitively. He was right. She stared at him in surprise when she faced him eventually. Then she gave a bitter laugh.

 "Oh, I can tell you, Sergei. She made absolutely certain I didn't forget. It's damning evidence."

 Sergei nodded gravely.

 "So the opportunity to tell Chakotay was lost, or did you think it a way to punish Chakotay, if unintentionally?"

 She wanted to tell Sergei it's none of his business. She wanted to walk away and go home and sit around in her darkened bedroom and brood until it was time for her baby to be born. But Sergei was a doctor, a very experienced and compassionate one, and one who was Chakotay's best friend.

 "Maybe it was to punish him, Sergei. Maybe. I don't know. It was always my intention to let him know despite what happened. He's the father of our baby, a baby we've both wanted. Now…"

 "The urge to lash back through your baby is great, but Kathryn, please, could you listen and take this bit of advice from me?" She stood still, staring into the distance. Although it had still been morning, they could see the faint outline of the moon, and that's where her gaze had been fixed. When she turned to Sergei again, she nodded.

 "Hannah will be the most innocent party, Kathryn. It doesn't matter what happened between you and Chakotay, but don't let her be caught in the middle of it. It's all too easy to do that…"

Sergei had turned from her to look at the wedding party. In the early morning she had been evasive with Dalene when she had helped her friend with her dress and saw to it that Maris and Eugenie were looked after. Sergei she knew, had been referring to the daughters of Andreas Buccholtz. They had been in danger of being used as a bargaining tool by their mother and sadly, by Andreas, too. It affected his daughters, made them a little insecure. They were old enough to see what was happening around them, and to see that their mother was a less than exemplary parent who left the girls mostly alone at home when she left on trips with one of her numerous boyfriends. Kathryn's own baby was not born yet, would not make her appearance until Christmas, yet here her mother was, keeping the most exciting news from her husband because he strayed.

 "I know, but I couldn't help it. I was out of it, thrown off kilter so badly that the thought to tell him just never entered my head."

 "So, will you inform him?"

 "Sergei, I don't know where he is."

 "He must join the Ormskirk in three weeks' time. Will you let him know then?"

 "Yes, I'll tell him I need this time alone, Sergei. You understand that, don't you? I need time to think about our future…if there is one," she added very softly. "If there is one," she repeated.

 "Come, we have to join the party. Smile for us, Kathryn, will you? I know your heart is very heavy right now, but they need to see you take your husband's absence in your stride…"

 "Thanks very much, Doctor," Kathryn replied, smiling broadly.

 Now, Kathryn, still standing a little away from the wedding party, smiled a sad smile as she prepared yet another excuse not to join them for luncheon at Andreas' home. She knew they would understand, but she was not looking forward to hearing the sympathetic clicks of the tongue, seeing the compassion in their eyes, or their pity. Somehow, during the course of the proceedings, the photo-sessions, the blessings and speeches, they sensed; they were not fooled by Sergei's quiet, firm reassurance and excuse for his best friend. Kathryn thought that it was probably the fact that it was Sergei and not she herself who fielded their questions. It was a vain hope that they thought her too sad or something to speak for herself, which Dalene had instantly viewed with a sarcastic eye. Still, it had to do.

 When Dalene waved to her to join them, she braced herself, breathed in deeply.

  _"Okay, Janeway, while you're walking over to them, see how fast you can think up a brilliant excuse this time…_

 ***

 "Where did the light go, Kathryn?" Gretchen Janeway asked as she seated herself next to Kathryn on the swing seat. Gretchen had a worried look about her as she touched Kathryn's hair lightly. "You've not said much since you arrived, and there are dark circles under your eyes. That the look of a mom-to-be?"

 Kathryn kept staring over the lawn, her eyes fixing on the big tree under which she had sat on the previous occasions she had been in Indiana. Gretchen gave a sigh, but she wasn't backing down. Kathryn had been reticent, so unlike the day of her birthday when she had been exuberant, thrilled that she was going to have a baby, pleased beyond measure when Chakotay sent her such a thoughtful gift for her birthday. That gift was lying on Kathryn's lap, and Kathryn was stroking Ceara's deep golden coat, the pup whimpering with pleasure. Gretchen thought idly that even with the dog staying with her, Ceara still yelped excitedly when Kathryn was around. Chakotay had really given Kathryn the best gift anyone could have given her.

 Chakotay…

 "Has something happened, Kathryn? To Chakotay?"

 Bingo.

 Kathryn jerked round to face her, pain flashing across her features. Her eyes were…burning. Gretchen felt a stirring of disquiet, unrest settling in her bosom. She didn't say anything and waited patiently for Kathryn to speak. It was long seconds later - Kathryn stared at her with hurt eyes Gretchen hadn't seen there since Justin - that Kathryn sighed first before she opened her mouth.

 "Yes, it's Chakotay…"

 "Kathryn…" Gretchen's voice was laced with concern. Kathryn looked on the verge of tears, but she forced herself, blinked several times not to give in to it.

 "I think we're finished, Mom. It's over…"

 "No, oh no… Chakotay? What has happened between the two of you?"

 Kathryn expelled a deep sigh again after a long pause.

 "I - " she paused, then kept her gaze averted when she spoke, all the time stroking the dog's coat. Gretchen could see how disturbed Kathryn was by the ill-contained furious brushing. "I caught Chakotay…having sex with another woman…on Dorvan."

 "Kathryn?" Gretchen responded with shock., unable to believe what she just heard. She wanted to ask whether Kathryn was sure…

 "I went to Dorvan to surprise him with the news of - of the baby. There was this Cardassian woman, making love to him…crude, bestial… They didn't s-see me," Kathryn stammered suddenly as she choked with emotion.

 "Oh…Kathryn… Chakotay loves you. He - "

 "He didn't deny it, Mom, besides, how could he? I saw them together. It - "

 Gretchen reached for Kathryn; Ceara slid off Kathryn's lap and Kathryn buried her face in her mother's bosom as she wept brokenly for several minutes. Gretchen's heart ached for her daughter. All the time she stroked Kathryn's hair, much like she did when Kathryn was a little girl. She couldn't believe that Chakotay could betray Kathryn in such a manner. It sounded altogether so odd, so at odds with Chakotay's very nature. He was much too private, they've all discovered, so proud, to get into something like that. She didn't want to insult her own daughter by sounding sceptical about what Kathryn had seen. Kathryn would never lie, never fabricate something so important that was about to destroy her life. Her tears were real, her deep, ingrained sadness was real, the empty look in her eyes was real, and the way she missed Chakotay was real. He had not been at Dalene's wedding, the only information Kathryn had been willing to share with her the moment she arrived here. It was what set her off thinking about something that may have happened. She was waiting for Kathryn to speak. She had not wanted to push the subject. But today, three days later, Kathryn had still shut herself from her, while her sadness just seemed to intensify.

 "Kathryn…"

 Kathryn had stopped crying, looking a little more relieved as she sat back in the swing seat. Ceara jumped back in her lap. It was more like barging up and Kathryn lifting her the rest of the way.

 "How bad is it?"

 "As bad as it can be, Mom…"

 "He knows about Hannah?"

 "No."

 "You sound like you don't want to tell him, Kathryn. Whatever happened - "

 "Whatever happened, Mom, Chakotay reneged. He betrayed me in the most deceitful manner possible. I - I can't bring myself to tell him. It's as if I want to punish him, take my revenge on him, and I don't want to. Yet, the feeling inside me, it's so strong, you can’t believe how strong it is. I know he deserves to know about the baby, Mom. But I don't want him rushing across ten sectors to be at my side and demand what - what…" Kathryn looked away. "I can't do it…"

 Gretchen touched her daughter's arm gently, urging Kathryn to look at her.

 "You know, Kathryn, I won't insult your intelligence by saying things may not be what they seem." Kathryn opened her mouth to reject her mother's statement. Her whole body stiffened in her denial. Gretchen lifted her hand to quell Kathryn's flood of rejection. "But honey, don't you think Chakotay was behaving out of character? It's not like him to do something as indescribably hurtful as what he did. He is not a deceitful man. You know that, Kathryn."

 "Mom, when I stumbled on them, it seemed as if they had been at it for hours…their coarse language… You didn't see what - " The shuttered looked came into her eyes again as she clamped her mouth.

 For a moment Gretchen wondered what Kathryn wanted to say. Some revelation no one knew of?

 "Still," she kept on, "Chakotay loves you desperately. He is the real faithful and honourable type. He has a steady, open regard, one that demands the other person accept him as such. His eyes never shift, Kathryn, like some types you must have come across. You know the ones - furtive, like they have an agenda. Chakotay had only one agenda, honey, and that was to devote his whole life to you. Didn't you tell me once that he said his life belongs to you?"

 "He did." Kathryn's eyes filled with tears. "He did," she whispered.

 "So don't you think there may be more to it that meets the eye?" Gretchen asked.

 Kathryn turned swiftly on her, a sudden fire in her eyes which a moment ago carried the world's sadness in them.

 "I can tell you what my eye _met,_ Mother," Kathryn retorted hotly. Gretchen was instantly aware how the _mother_ slipped out She gave a sigh. Kathryn was in Captain mode.

 "I know, honey. You've only just told me this sordid account of Chakotay's indiscretion and I can tell you, Chakotay was not rational. He couldn't have been…"

 Gretchen had no idea why she sounded so convinced. It was just an inner voice that screamed to her of an irregularity Kathryn wasn't seeing, and however close to reality the act between Chakotay and the Cardassian woman was, it still didn't add up. Chakotay was too manly, too honourable. Something had to have happened with him.

 "He still did it, Mother."

  _Mother_ … Again.

 "I should have given you that spanking you deserved when you were six and you flooded Flotter and Treevis and the entire holodeck of your father's vessel when he took you on it." Kathryn smiled grimly at the memory. "Look, I can understand you're very, very distressed, but sweetheart, I'm just wondering when the scientist in you will kick in and you're going to analyse your husband's indecent act."

 "Tell me what I should analyse, Mother. Where Chakotay's body ended and that woman's body started? Or the vile invitation from her that I join in and make a threesome?"

 Gretchen paled at Kathryn's bitterness.

 "You know that's not what I meant, Kathryn. Don't insult me."

 Kathryn had the grace to look shame-faced. She expelled a sigh.

 "You don't think Chakotay could do such a thing wilfully?"

 "Kathryn, I have it on record that Chakotay said, and I quote, _If I should ever hurt Kathryn, I would not deserve to live._ He said that as a vow, Kathryn. Surely you could not doubt his veracity? And now, of all times?"

 "Why not? The Cardassian woman was lusty, full of fire, beautiful…"

 "Oh, Christmas, Kathryn! That you should fall for that! You've never been insecure!"

 "Just something, Mother. They looked…together…"

 "And from what you've told me, something still doesn't add up, and you're too unforgiving and implacable right now to find anything remotely mitigating."

 Kathryn gave her mother a long, ponderous look. Gretchen had a sudden sinking feeling as she saw the pained expression in her daughter's eyes, that she was going to drop a clanger. She actually held the dog even closer to her as she would a baby.

 "Mom, this Cardassian woman - Sedeka - sent me a holo-vid of their afternoon and evening of pleasure, of what she and Chakotay actually engaged in. Every single frame of every sexual vulgarity. She sent it to me on the Crimond…"

 Kathryn's pause filled the air, heavy with the echo of her words. It hit Gretchen like a dash of ice cold water, so cold that for a fleeting moment she too, doubted Chakotay. Her jaw dropped and when she could find her voice again, it sounded thin and tremulous, and her eyes filled with tears. Her hand trembled as she touched Kathryn's cheek.

 "Oh, dear God, Kathryn. I'm so sorry. So very sorry. She's not making you forget…"

 " _They're_ not making me forget, Mom. Look, I'll inform Chakotay about the baby, but that's all."

 "Kathryn, don't you see? You have to give Chakotay the benefit of the doubt. The woman is obviously messing with your mind. Ad what seems even more obvious, is that she's fixated with Chakotay."

 "Meaning?"

 "Have you suddenly gone dense, Kathryn Janeway? Meaning she'll do anything to keep Chakotay away from you - "

 "I don't know!" Kathryn replied heatedly. "Chakotay, he - I think he will leave, you know."

 "Not when he knows about the baby?"

 "Even then."

 "You're the one who walked, Kathryn, however injured you are at this moment. You'll be the one to go begging, eventually. Chakotay is proud. Once you've sent him away, once you've said 'good-bye' to him, he'll not make an overture soon. He'll think he is not good enough for you. He harboured feelings of never being good enough for you, didn't he? You, being an admiral's daughter and all, pedigreed Starfleet aristocrat. Now, when you left, those feelings will surface again. He knows he hurt you deeply, and Kathryn, honey, he'll believe he deserves the punishment - _any punishment -_ because he was never good enough for you _anyway_ … He'll even start believing he was never your equal. Hell, what was I thinking, Kathryn Janeway?"

Gretchen drew in her breath, tried to become calm again. She knew that things like trust and unshakeable faith, once disturbed, would be difficult to restore.

 "I know, Mom. It's just so difficult at the moment. Those images - they haunt me, invade my dreams. I can't shake them off. Every moment I try to have a good memory, those pictures unsettle my equilibrium. It's hard, hard! But Chakotay…you're right. He - he did look…"

 Gretchen could sense Kathryn's heart was too full to speak, to express openly anything in Chakotay's defence; then Kathryn would admit that the entire incident didn't leave Chakotay unscathed.

 "Chakotay was just as torn up by what he did and what you saw, is that it?"

 "Maybe because I caught him?"

 "Kathryn!"

 "Perhaps…he did look so hurt, unshaven…" Kathryn added reflectively.

 "Then tell him, will you? About Hannah. You've both waited a long time for her. She'll be the connection, who knows? She might even be your little peacemaker - "

 "I'll not use the child as a bargaining tool."

Gretchen didn't fail to pick up on the vibes of Kathryn's reference to Hannah. Since the moment she arrived in Indiana, it was always _the child_ or _the baby_ …never Hannah…

 "And I bet someone else also spoke to you in the same vein? Sergei Karkoff, perhaps? He is Chakotay's best friend, also his personal physician. He may know more than we think."

 Kathryn blushed and Gretchen wanted to pull Kathryn in her arms and hug her hard. Her daughter was still too overwrought. If she had heard the news of Chakotay's transgression from someone, Gretchen wondered whether that wouldn't have been more merciful. But, her daughter had been introduced, forced to watch what Chakotay and the Cardassian were doing. How cruel an initiation into your husband's betrayal could that be? She had sensed she wasn't the first one to tell Kathryn to look beneath the surface. She was glad. As long as she wasn't alone in proclaiming Chakotay's mitigating circumstance. Her proud daughter, so refined, so cultured, so disciplined, was beginning to think herself a failure; if her marriage failed, it was a sign of weakness on her part.

 "Yes," Kathryn admitted reluctantly. "Yes, Sergei spoke with me, in just about the same vein. It's not nice others know, Mom. It hurts like mad. In here," Kathryn said softly as she pressed her fist against her bosom. The dog was fretting and Kathryn let her go. Ceara scampered off to the lawns, chasing an imaginary bird.

 "He loves you, Kathryn. I think in the coming months, waiting for Hannah to be born, you should hold on to that."

 There was another long pause. This time it was a warm, more peaceful air that settled around them, as if Gretchen had managed to fight - and win - half of Chakotay's defence to her daughter. It was a calming silence, on that was full of solace.

 "I miss him, Mom. I miss him…"

 "I know, Kathryn…"

 ****

 "There, that should do it, Captain," Dr Benaren said stoically a month later as Kathryn lifted herself off the biobed.

 "Thank you, Doctor. I'm glad the nausea is gone. I was getting too blue on the bridge," she replied.

 "I must warn you to take it easy. No coffee, no alcohol, no cigarettes - "

 "The humans gave up smoking centuries ago, Doctor."

 "It's my feeble attempt at humouring you," he replied quickly.

 "I get the message." Kathryn smoothed down her jacket and was about to leave the sick bay when Dr Benaren gave a slight cough. She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him.

 "Er…Captain, the recommendations I gave you about taking a desk job for the last months…I mean it…"

 "I know, Doctor. I feel fit, I'm not showing…yet, and I will give it thought."

 "Serious though, Captain. I - you've had a miscarriage, and I don't think we can take any risks - "

 "Perhaps you should leave that to me," she replied, at which the doctor gave a long drawn out sigh before he played his trump card. Kathryn Janeway stared at him, and she knew he was going to field at least one of ten very good reasons for his advice.

 "We're at war, Captain. You may wish to ignore the newly signed Federation-Cardassian Treaty, but my experience has led me to believe that this will be yet another treaty or truce that the Cardassians will flagrantly disregard."

 "And your point is?"

 She knew what his point was. At six or seven months pregnant, with a vessel possibly under attack, she'd be risking her unborn child's life.

 "You're the Captain. I don't have to drive it home. As your physician on board this vessel and as the Chief Medical Officer, I have the authority to relieve you of duty, Captain. Please, understand."

 She looked at him for long moments and wondered idly why she was being so obstinate. She knew he was right, he had her well-being and that of her baby at heart. She couldn't blame him. She sighed and nodded.

 "I am very well aware of the situation we're in, Doctor. Believe me, when the time comes, I'll take that leave. Just not…now," she said rather stiffly as he nodded to him and quickly strode out of sickbay.

 In the corridor she sagged against the bulkhead for a minute, glad that there wasn't any crew walking the decks. Dr Benaren wasn't exactly happy with the examination. She had not been taking her nutrient supplements, and he had given her a vaguely pained look before he continued. She had been negligent, something that was so against the grain, so different from her first pregnancy when she had taken every precaution…

 Now it felt she didn't care. She was in her second trimester, almost six months pregnant, but…she gave a sigh as she continued towards the turbolift that would take her to the bridge. She was still on duty and would resume for another two hour shift. Daley had been happy enough to take over. Kathryn had been tired lately, but glad the nausea was something of the past. She had been feeling dead inside, given to brooding in the darkness of her quarters. Huddled in Chakotay's chair in the shadows it was as if she could wish away too many things that weighed down so heavily on her.

 She shrugged. She hadn't given much thought to the baby… Chakotay had been too much on her mind, and mindful of Sergei Karkoff and her mother's remonstrations - she was beginning to think it more of a remonstration than advice - she had to get in contact with him. She had little enthusiasm for doing so, the wretchedness of what happened still too fresh in her mind and heart to want to think of him as anything other than a loving husband who was going to be ecstatic about their baby. She still found it difficult to get past the pictures in those holo-vids, seeing with searing clarity the look on his face. Could that be the face of a man who swore his undying love for her, who swore he would die rather than hurt one hair on her body?

 She knew that at some point she would look at it rationally, when she could view the entire episode in perspective, when she could speak or think with the same conviction her mother and Sergei Karkoff did. Right now, all she could see was Chakotay's face in the throes of… She sighed again. She didn't think he would contact her. He looked so lost…broken, when she left their apartment. She tried to blank out that face, the one filled with remorse, the one that could smile so that his dimples kept keeling her over.

 He had to know about the baby. She would have to find him. She didn't think he was on the Ormskirk. Sergei had already apprised her of that fact, that Chakotay had requested leave. She gave another long inward sigh. She missed Chakotay; she hated him and she missed him. Her mind was still in such turmoil, her emotions on a roller coaster that tossed her up and down, creating a deep sinking effect as she went down, then screaming as she lifted. She couldn't take it. She needed clarity; she needed peace and quiet. What she needed most, was her husband by her side.

 Well, that doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon…

She rocked up suddenly when her commbadge beeped.

 "Daley to Janeway."

 "Janeway here," she replied, "what is it, Commander?"

 "We're being hailed, Captain. You are needed on the bridge."

 "I am on my way. Janeway out."

 By the time she reached the bridge, she quelled the breathlessness ruthlessly.

 "Captain, we've received a hail from a Cardassian warship."

 "Red Alert. We're taking no chances," she responded instantly. "Open visual."

 Kathryn froze.

 The face that stared at her made her blood turn cold. Sub-commander Sedeka's mouth curved into a smile. The officers on the bridge stared open-mouthed, but remained at their stations, their fingers hovering over any controls that would be engaged on the Captain's command.

 "Hello, Captain Kathryn Janeway," she breathed in a husky tone. Her voice though, was syrupy, wheedling. Kathryn felt sick, knew that in a few minutes she would disgrace herself in front of the senior crew. Or, Sedeka would do the honours herself, whatever it was she wanted to say.

 "What do you want."

 "Oh, it was fun we had, didn't we?"

 "I have no business with you," Kathryn replied, ignoring Sedeka's play on _fun._ She knew exactly what Sedeka referred to.

 "Oh, Captain, but you do. You'll never guess who - "

 Kathryn had looked at her operations officer and indicated quickly the signal that meant he could delete visual as well as audio.

 "Relay that message to my ready room, Akbor," she instructed, then nodded to Eamon Daley to take the bridge.

 "Aye, Captain."

 In the safety of her ready room Kathryn felt her stomach heaving. She gulped several times desperately to prevent herself from vomiting. She switched on her vid-com to see Sedeka's leering face. The ridge that ran across her forehead and trailed down the sides into her neck were a little softer on her. In another circumstance, Kathryn would have said she was beautiful. But the Cardassian woman's face showed displeasure as, in spite of the smile, her eyes glinted like sharp needles.

 "Oh, you shouldn't have done that, Captain Janeway. It won't help, you know."

 "What do you want."

 "I just thought you ought to know that my sojourn with Chakotay has paid a little dividend."

 Kathryn's jaw dropped. Something - lightning - stabbed right into her heart. Her hand clamped instinctively over the locket under her uniform. She had no doubt what Sedeka meant. After the lightning strike, she turned cold inside. Ice-cold. Sedeka and Chakotay… Oh, dear God… They made a baby.

 A baby...

 "Congratulate me, I'm going to be a mommy. Didn't you know where he was the last few months? Chakotay has been real good to me. Did you know that you could get his cock so much harder if you clamped your fingers over his balls like this.." Sedeka performed the action with sick pleasure. "He fucks real good, I can tell you that. Oh, but I don't need to tell you. But then, maybe he never quite fucked you like he did me, so you wouldn't know what I could get out of him… He was real good. Every time, every hour… Real…good, Captain Janeway. He'll make a great Daddy, don't you think?"

 She could be bluffing, Kathryn thought as she clutched her stomach. She prayed to God Sedeka was bluffing. But they had been hours together, and who knows, how many days before that? How many meetings after that? Chakotay hadn't wanted her to contacted him. Was that why?

 "You're lying…"

 "I can assure you, Captain Janeway. Chakotay serviced me well."

 Kathryn stared dumbfounded at the heartless woman. Inside her, ten thousand needles pierced her heart, and her blood spilled liberally.

 "I having his baby," Sedeka smiled when Kathryn remained speechless, shocked beyond measure.

 "Why are you doing this," Kathryn managed finally, her voice thick and hoarse.

 "I wanted a man; Chakotay was available, Janeway. He loves me, and he has already pledged his support to me."

 Then suddenly the screen went blank. Kathryn rubbed her eyes with trembling fingers. She was gasping, her chest burning. She knew that she'd pass out if she didn't get to sick bay soon. The thought of sick bay and Benaren made her jerk up. Forcing the nausea and dizziness back, controlling her breathing, she held her head with both hands as blinding flashes flickered behind her eyes. Unable to control the nausea she rushed to the small bathroom and retched violently. Minutes later she appeared at her desk again, staring at her vid-com, shuddering from the after effects of her retching spell.

 "This is impossible. It couldn't be. How could Chakotay do this to me?" she kept asking, her voice turning into a whimper. She sobbed once, twice, struggled for composure. Her body was suddenly cold and the shivering caused her teeth to chatter. She had no idea that her hands were wet as the tears burned onto them.

 "Oh, Chakotay, what have you done? What have you done to me? Was Sedeka lying? Why is she doing this to us? Why?" Then she recalled the protective way in which Sedeka caressed her belly.

Chakotay made a baby with that woman.

 "Oh, Chakotay…why?

 Her commbadge beeped again.

 "Daley to Janeway. Is everything alright, Captain?"

 She breathed in, kept her voice as evenly as possible.

 "Yes, Commander. I'm fine. No need to worry."

 "Aye, Captain. I'm glad to inform you that the Cardassian vessel has taken off again."

 "Stand down weapons. Thank you, Daley. Cancel red alert."

 She rose from her seat, wondered how she could get to her quarters without her senior crew seeing how Sedeka had unsettled her. She pictured herself heavy with Chakotay's child, their own little baby whom he named, and she pictured Sedeka, rubbing her swollen belly, heavy with Chakotay's child. Sedeka had to be lying. She had to be, Kathryn convinced herself.

 She wants Chakotay…She wants Chakotay…The evil Cardassian woman wanted Chakotay… My mother was right…

 Kathryn jerked violently as her vid-com beeped again. Her hand trembled as it paused over the keys. Not Sedeka again, she thought. The woman was demented, unscrupulous, malicious… pregnant… How could Chakotay betray her with such a woman? Kathryn didn't want to respond to the message.

 It beeped again. This time she let the beep sound longer. It stopped for a few seconds. Kathryn wiped her brow nervously. The beep sounded again, insistently. She didn't want to see Sedeka again. She never wanted to see her again. Still, it might be from Starfleet.

 Her hand flew to the keys. The next instant, Chakotay's face filled the screen.

 "You!" Kathryn whispered, her voice filled with outrage and disgust.

 "Kathryn, I want to tell you - there is something I need to tell you. Please, you have to listen to me… forgive me, Kathryn…forgive me…I made… Sedeka… she is… forg-"

 Kathryn Janeway looked at her husband. She was filled with an instantaneous revulsion, a flash of a pregnant Sedeka reminding her she should hate Chakotay. Every nerve in her body screamed as she wanted to strike out in a mad, blind blow at him.

 Then her lips pressed tightly as she blanked him out, closed her eyes as he begged for mercy. Her fingers pressed the keys with cold precision.

 The next moment, Chakotay's face vanished from the screen.

 ***

 Chakotay stared at the Federation insignia in total bewilderment. Long he stared at the screen. Very long.

 When he could breathe calmly again, when he could feel his heart beat again normally, he bent his head at last.

 Kathryn hated him.

 "I should have expected it," he said with a resigned air. "I should have expected it. I am not good for her. I was never good enough for her…" he convinced himself.

 He repeated it and when he tired of saying it over and over like a litany, he said finally:

 "I will never be able to make things right with her."

 ****

  **END CHAPTER NINETEEN**

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature. Readers are advised to be eighteen years and over to continue...

* * *

**BOOK THREE**

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Chakotay was a man with a mission.

 After his last, failed attempt to get through to Kathryn, he had felt like dying. She had been upset, bitter and angry. It was as if those emotions bounced off the screen as he tried to explain, to tell her the truth about what had happened to him. He had bumbled through his attempt to explain, realised after she cut him off so abruptly, that he never did manage to explain anything to her, and worse, she might have construed his words differently, which added to her shock, the way she cut him off.

 Not that he thought she would believe him. The expression on her face was enough to convince him that Kathryn had made up her mind about him. She was overwrought at his infidelity, and he had known then that she never wanted to see him again. He had been dead for a few days after that. The realisation that Kathryn was finished with him had been delayed by his persistent denial that it couldn't happen to him, that it couldn't happen to _them,_ that she had stopped loving him. It was possible that the shock of what she had seen could produce such a result, but since he first laid eyes on Kathryn Janeway he had been convinced in his heart that there would never be another woman for him, and she had reciprocated those feelings with so much of wonderment that a woman like her, so refined, so full of class, so… _aristocratic_ could feel that way towards him too.

 He had walked around with an air if disbelief, after the first few hours when he had repeated how undeserving he had been anyway of Kathryn's good faith, her trust, her loyalty and her love. Like a wounded animal he had stalked around in his temporary abode, trashed everything that could move and kept screaming his pain as the reality slowly sank in.

 He had made two attempts to appeal to her and beg her forgiveness; that she be merciful to him. The last communication rubbed salt in his already open wounds that kept bleeding until he cried out in helpless rage against Sedeka who had trapped him, against his own folly to have been lured by her in the first place.

 In one single afternoon, one single act of indiscretion, Sedeka had ruined his life. If she had meant to destroy him and Kathryn, she had succeeded. He couldn't get out of his mind Sedeka's vindictiveness, her calculated methods she employed to bring him to ruination, and her subsequent, evil attack on Kathryn, who deserved none of the pain and heartache she now suffered. Kathryn suffered. There was no doubt in his mind about that. She suffered, she was hurt beyond her strength, and if she thought to punish him for his transgression, he would accept it, because he had done her incalculable harm. He had known, since Sergei had run the tests on the wine and food, that Sedeka's seduction of him had been more than just a woman who wanted to have an illicit fling. Sedeka had no scruples, no sense of decency, and her seduction had been part of a plot against him, against ultimately, the Federation. That Kathryn had been drawn into it was for him a disaster, for Sedeka and Gul Evek a victory, an added bonus to their devious dealings with him.

 It was humiliating to admit that Sedeka had studied not only him in the Federation database - which she no doubt poached from somewhere - but also Kathryn and any other person connected to them in some way. It was a method he would have used, were he that malicious and calculating. To an individual like Sedeka who would systematically search for anything to bring down a person, he and Kathryn had been as transparent as the moon on a clear morning.

 He was beginning to see things in perspective, put together pieces of the puzzle of the machinations of Sedeka and Gul Evek. He studied, looked over the first dealings with Sedeka, the subsequent subspace communications with her, began a complicated ritual of dance with her in order to set his own plan into motion. Now, sober and rational, he could think clearly, chart his actions and those of Sedeka frame by agonising frame and come to several conclusions. There was method to Sedeka's madness, and he, Chakotay, now lately immersed with clear thoughts into how he had been sucked in by a clever woman, knew exactly what to do.

 Always, in all of history, through the great literature of the ages, the motivations of devious men and women were fired by one thing: the desire to control and manipulate. Their agendas - whether political, socio-cultural, economical - were almost always betrayed by their personal or emotional involvement. When things became personal, there entered all manners of possibilities for failure, of the revelation of a weakness they had not foreseen.

 The Cardassians Sedeka and Gul Evek were no different. While they could cry victory on an assignment successfully executed, somewhere in their agenda lay something that could become their Achilles heel. The last month had been a journey through hell for him, one in which he cried out Kathryn's name in the dead of night, and in the bright light of day, he could think, think, think of their motives, go calmly, though it shamed him, over every act he could remember with Sedeka, every crazy conversation, what she said, what she didn't say, her eye contact, her movements, the way she ate, anything that could reveal to him a weakness. So, he went back to his first subspace communication with Sedeka, when he told her that Kathryn left him, and the other conversations that followed where he had to - he threw up literally - do things with Sedeka just to soften her up and make her vulnerable.

 A month ago he could think, plan, discover. He had reached a point where he could summon the courage to speak with Kathryn again, knowing that soon, Sedeka would be out of their lives. When he finally made up his mind to make one last attempt to get through to his wife and convince her of his innocence, her reaction all but told him that Sedeka had been at her again, and with something that had to be devastating to Kathryn, something personal, something that involved him.

 He had known he would eventually find something, however small, that would become a chink in their armour, particularly Sedeka's armour. Sedeka had sent Kathryn a holo-vid of their crazed sex romps, had turned his wife into a quiet stranger who simply showed it to him, then left his house. Kathryn quiet was Kathryn deeply hurt. The quieter she became, the more intense the hurt. That day he had known in his own troubled mind, that Sedeka couldn't have hurt his wife more than the way she had done it by sending her the vile holo-vid of her activities with him. If what Kathryn had seen in their house on Dorvan V was enough to make her bitter and unhappy, then the holo-vid was sent to injure the injured more, a "just so you don't forget" message. But more than that, it was revealing. It was why, when he could think again after Kathryn left him, that he began to lure Sedeka.

 Sub-commander Sedeka had made one mistake during and after their hours of lust.

 One mistake.

 **

 "Two weeks, Commander, is the best I can offer you," Roger Petranoff said to Chakotay in the ready room of the USS Ormskirk. "You've had a full month's leave already, granted by Starfleet, but hell, I can't go forever without the best First Officer I ever had." Roger smiled as he spoke.

 "I'll be back, Roger, hopefully before two weeks. Don't worry. It's something that I must do."

 Roger sighed.

 "Sure, Chakotay. It's been almost three months…You know that - "

 "It's over between me and Kathryn, Roger. That's what you wanted to say?"

 Roger Petranoff gave Chakotay a penetrating look. Chakotay refused to budge under such piercing scrutiny. Petranoff had not been too happy when he didn't attend Dalene's wedding and despite Sergei's explanations, still viewed the matter with mistrust. After a while Chakotay didn't care. Kathryn left him, and Starfleet knew that. They just didn't know the reason for the separation. An amicable separation was the official explanation given later by Sergei Karkoff and Kathryn Janeway. Petranoff's expression changed. What was he going to say? Chakotay wondered. Nothing that he didn't know, surely.

 "You're going to rendezvous with the _Vetar,_ a Cardassian vessel," Petranoff said.

 "Then I don't think you should worry, Captain. We're protected by the Treaty."

 "And I'm not supposed to know the nature of your visit?"

 "It's official. That's all I can say, Captain."

 "Well, Chakotay, I hope you know what you're doing. I expect my First Officer back on duty in two weeks' time. You're taking the Orinoco?"

 "Yes. It's fast. Thank you, Roger, that you've allowed me this time off. I owe you."

 "I'll remember that, Chakotay. You'd better be present at the baby's christening next year."

 "The baby? What baby?"

 There was only a slight pause before Roger Petranoff replied quickly.

 "Dalene's infant. The one she's going to give birth to next year."

 Chakotay smiled, then seconds later his face became stern again, a frown lingering as he requested to be dismissed. When Roger nodded, he left the ready room with a sense of disquiet about him.

 He had wondered why Kathryn had come to Dorvan V that fateful day. When he had become rational, he remembered the words of Sergei, who asked him if he knew why Kathryn would come personally to Dorvan V when all she could have done was relay him a subspace message.

 He had thought many times - too many - of a baby, of Hannah. Could Kathryn be pregnant? If she were, then surely it was something that Sergei and Roger Petranoff would know. Dalene, Roger's sister, and Svetlana were Kathryn's friends. They would have known something, surely.

 His heart gave a sudden lurch as he entered his quarters. They wanted a baby so badly, had longed for a baby girl that would fill their lives and complete their little circle.

 Kathryn pregnant.

 The thought created a wildfire inside him. He pictured her at six months pregnant, or just before giving birth when she would be heavy with child. His child. If she had come to Dorvan V to tell him she was pregnant…

 Oh, spirits! Then how much deeper didn't the lances cut into her heart when she found him with another woman?

 Another woman. The thought of Sedeka rocked him up sharply to the present.

 Forget Kathryn.

 He was going to visit Sedeka on the _Vetar_. He was dead certain that Sedeka would never reject his advances. He had seen her draw closer to him during the subspace communications. She had been animal-like in her lust when they fucked that first time. He could go and join his body to hers in as shocking a way as on Dorvan V. That way Kathryn would recede in his memory, and he could get on with his life, such as it was.

 He switched on his vid-com and prepared a subspace message for Sub-commander Sedeka. He waited only two minutes before he saw her face on his screen. She smiled and like a cat she stretched languorously.

 "I knew you'd call, Chakotay. I've been hoping you'd make good on your promise…" she purred. Her eyes gleamed and Chakotay noticed how she looked like she wanted to kiss him, her mouth curving seductively. He touched the screen with his fingers and smiled when Sedeka pressed her mouth against her screen so that it appeared as if she kissed his fingers.

 "I've been wanting to see you," he said, his voice low. "I'm hungry to feast on you…"

 "Two more days, and you'll be here. I have something to tell you, Chakotay. Something important, something I think you'll like…"

 "I know what I like, my evil little tigress. I like my mouth all over you, searching for little spots I missed the last time, finding your very core and holding my tongue deep in you as you spill and quiver, lubricating my tongue with your juices." Sedeka groaned and started writhing as his suggestions became more arousing. She pulled at the collar of her armour, her eyes hot with passion. "I'll be there," he promised.

 "We'll be good together, you'll see. I promise…" she purred again.

 Chakotay saw how Sedeka's eyes rested eagerly on him, her unbridled passion she didn't bother to hide. He could do anything to her when she was like that. Anything. Right now she was already starting to pull her armour off. The previous occasions when she called him "just to talk" as she put it, he had held back, frustrating her that he didn't make any overtures, or even referred to their time on Dorvan V. He could see the restlessness in her, see how impatient she was to resume their sexual escapades. There on Dorvan V, what had stopped for him, evidently didn't for her. She wanted him, and wanted him very badly. He was a man, and without any sense of false modesty, he could see what was happening with Sedeka. Most times, she was the scientist, brilliant, brash, intuitive and calculating. Then at times, she dropped her guard; for a fleeting moment, he could see Sedeka wanted more of him. After their first communications, he had started to fuck her through subspace, making her pliant and desperately screaming for more. He was succeeding in breaking her down. So he asked:

 "What would you like before I close communication, Sedeka? Another foretaste? Something for you to dream about while waiting for me to come to you? It will be our first time together again after Dorvan…"

 He watched how she stretched again, her hands cupping her breasts. Even with her armour, the woman's shape enhanced a hundredfold the severity of her clothing. She made it look good on her. Sedeka slowly removed the armour, dropped the pieces on the floor. Then she pulled down the top of the body suit. He sucked in his breath. Her skin, a much lighter blue-purplish tinge than her male counterparts, already looked like it primed itself for something. It glistened. She rose from her chair so that he could see her whole body, her hands stroking her swaying hips, caressing the tuft of hair at her centre. Even from a sector away, looking at the monitor of his vid-com, Chakotay could see how her vaginal folds quivered.

 "Give it to me, Chakotay," Sedeka whispered. "I want you…"

 Chakotay closed his eyes.

  _Oh, Kathryn, you have no idea what I'm about to do…_ came his silent plea _. Forgive me…_

 ***

 In the docking bay of the Vetar, Chakotay alighted from the Orinoco. The Cardassians who were on duty in the shuttle bay glared at him, but he ignored their looks of displeasure as they went about securing the Orinoco. He was in uniform, on official business, to see Sub-commander Sedeka, who had also very important news to share with him. All business had been cleared with Gul Evek, who was the highest authority on the vessel. Therefore, Chakotay knew, they would leave him alone. His business with Sub-commander Sedeka did not concern them. What she did on this vessel, she did for the Cardassian Union. They knew that Sedeka and Gul Evek were explosive when they were seen together, but Gul Evek knew when to share. If it were in the interest of the Union, Sedeka could do anything.

 That woman met him as he strode towards the entrance of the shuttle bay.

 "I thought I'd meet you here, Commander," she said formally. "You might wander down the wrong corridors." Her voice was raised so that the crew could hear her. Chakotay smiled grimly. They greeted Sedeka, nodding severely when she had entered the shuttle bay. It was their sign of respect. Still, he thought, one could respect out of fear, and one could respect out of admiration and courtesy and love. He thought they feared Sedeka. He had his doubts about the respect.

 "Then the right person is here to meet me, I'm sure," he told her. She was a tall woman and he didn't have to bend far down to address her.

 "Gul Evek sends his greetings, Commander, but pleads an extensive work programme. He would have met you himself." It was naturally, a bald-faced lie. Gul Evek wanted Sedeka to have her pleasures. He had no problems with handling Sedeka afterwards. Chakotay shook his head. Sedeka had apprised him of the Gul's insatiable appetite when it came to her. It was fucking without the botheration of feeling. Conscience, naturally, stayed as far away from the likes of Evek and Sedeka.

 "Then I am gratified that his second-in-command has come to do the honours. You may inform the Gul that I accept his apology."

 "Good, Commander Chakotay. This way," she said as she waved her hand that he follow her out of the shuttle bay. He carried a light duffel bag and Sedeka, the moment they were away from prying eyes, looked askance at it.

 "Well, you did agree to two days," he whispered close to her ear. "I've brought along some things we could use when we get...together... You get to clamp my nipples and hang me up...There's a little gold ring on my foreskin. It's got your name engraved on it... You're in my blood..." He grinned as she averted her gaze. He didn't miss the flash of desire in her eyes. He could smell her pheromones, and knew that she was already wet. But Sedeka had to be on her guard, he knew. It was not exactly a secret meeting, but he knew she wanted to be careful.

 "I shall enjoy it, Chakotay," she replied, her voice purring again like it did two days ago when he fucked her, her body writhing on the screen of his vid-com as she dug her fingers into her cunt. He hadn't wanted to do it. Kathryn's face had kept flashing in his head, tearing away at his conscience. He tried to force out Kathryn's face, remembered that he needed to do it, needed to do it in that way. Sedeka had been primal again, careening wildly while he coaxed her with his voice and lurid suggestions. She had screamed as she climaxed; he switched off his console while hearing Sedeka's screams.

 He had sagged back against his chair and the revulsion had built up in him till he couldn't stand it.

 Clutching his stomach he ran to his bathroom and threw up.

 Now… He sighed.

  _Keep your head… You can do it, Chakotay. You can do it…_ he told himself as they stood outside Sedeka's cabin.

 "We'll be undisturbed for two days, Chakotay. It's the least Gul Evek could do for me. He owes me…"

 Chakotay had no doubt what Sedeka meant by those words. Gul Evek was willing to share her. He didn't mind. Sedeka, he had already ascertained, was in Evek's blood and most likely, she had just come from his bed.

 Chakotay followed her inside, the doors closing with a finality behind him. He expelled his breath slowly, and prepared himself for the next few hours. Sedeka turned round to face him, a triumphant and happy gleam in her eyes. He threw down his duffel. She sidled up to him. He could smell her, smell the familiar pheromones that had pervaded in his house all of the afternoon when they copulated like animals. Now, it was as strong as it had been that day. His nostrils twitched, then flared. Her lips were parted, her eyelids heavy with desire. He wondered that she had been able to contain herself while waiting for him down in the shuttle bay. She had been formal, even courteous to a fault in the presence of the crew. Now, the mask was pulled away ruthlessly as Sedeka didn't bother to hide her emotion or bank down her passion. In the privacy of her quarters she was rampant with lust.

 "Chakotay…"

 "Sedeka…"

 He hauled her into his arms and kissed her roughly on the mouth. He knew that was how she liked him. He could bite into her and it would fan her lust. He found the soft flesh and bit into her. She gave a cry, then pushed harder against his mouth as he caught her upper lip and dug his teeth in, pulling, then suddenly releasing as his tongue thrust deep into her mouth. In seconds he tasted blood and she growled her pleasure when he licked her mouth.

 "Fuck me, Chakotay. Fuck me like you did on Dorvan V. I've been waiting for this for months," she breathed when he broke off the kiss. Her eyes burned into him. He wanted to believe in those moments that Sedeka was drunk with passion. If he refused now, she'd throw herself at his feet… She was ready to do so. How had the malicious, calculating brilliant scientist come to this? She was just a woman…A woman who needed a man…

 "Take me to your bed," he demanded huskily.

 "Anywhere will do. You've not had that problem before," she purred as she stripped her armour from her body.

 Chakotay gripped her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. His eyes burned into hers.

 "We fucked, then, Sedeka, like animals. Now, I want to make love to you…" His voice became softer, urgent. He kissed her again, this time just brushing her lips tenderly. Sedeka was surprised by his sudden change from his aggressive biting. She had expected coarse and wild, and unable to bear the transformation, she moaned softly into him. Still, he held her a little away from him, but maintaining the searing contact with her lips. Sedeka became impatient as she brought her arms round his neck. He held her hands, then firmly pressed her away from him. His mouth curved into a smile when he saw a tear escape from her eye. "I know you're in a hurry, but I've waited too, and I want to enjoy it this time even more, taking you slowly, making love...loving you... Besides," he whispered huskily, "you're carrying my baby…"

 He had anticipated her revelation, and it gratified him to see her reaction. He had been right. A smile spread across her features; her eyes widened, then became smoky as she slowly moved backwards, step by step, until she was in the area where her bed stood. He grinned as he picked up his duffel again and followed her to her bed.

 She had taken off her bodysuit and lay on the bed naked, her skin glowing deeply in the orange light of the cabin. Her hand quivered above her pubis and he knew if he didn't soon… Sedeka would stick her fingers right in and help herself to an orgasm.

 "Don't, Sedeka," he whispered hoarsely. "Wait for me…" Her face was turned to him. Gone was the extreme aggression, gone was the cruelty; in its place was a waiting, an impatient heaving of her bosom as she breathed in anticipation. He was going to teach her that making love could be beautiful, an all-sharing experience that could transport her soul to another plane. Slowly, Chakotay undressed, removing first his jacket, then the teal undershirt. He pressed the first boot off his feet, scuffling one foot against the other.

 "I can't wait…" Her eyes were dark pools of desire, hazy with need.

 "Close your eyes," he ordered urgently as he started to pull down his trousers. When she complied, he smiled. "I want you, Sedeka, but I plan on making this memorable for us. Very, very memorable." His voice was hoarse, seductive, inviting. He bent down and opened his duffel.

 "What are you doing…"

 "Removing my boot. I'm going to give you something you'll never forget, Sedeka…"

 "What…"

 "Myself, as your gift… I want to bury myself deeply into you and feel how your softness envelops me, lubricate me. I want to feel how your depths will receive me. I want to stay inside you and feel you climax over and over, spilling your juices around me. I want this baby…"

 Sedeka murmured inaudibly, swirling in the vortex of desire that Chakotay drew her into. Her body writhed. One finger slipped into her centre. When he demurred - a soft clicking sound he made - she pulled her finger out reluctantly.

 "Yes, our baby… I want it too…"

 The bed creaked slightly as his weight bore down on it. Sedeka gave a little moan as he touched her breast and she wriggled with pleasure when his hand traveled over her body, brushing lightly here and there. He captured the hand that had fondled her centre, stilled it for an agonising moment as Sedeka arched to feel his fingers in her.

 "That's right, Sedeka, patient…patient…let's take this slowly, okay…Tomorrow, you can be as wild as a tiger.... Now, I want slow and delicious. You want it too, Sedeka..."

 Sedeka, her eyes still closed as she welcomed Chakotay's soft words, his coaxing, moaned again. This, Chakotay thought, was how Sedeka needed to be treated by a man… When he shifted to lie over her, her legs spread so that he could fit snugly against her. His hair brushed against her centre as he settled himself between her legs. He knew that she knew the familiar feel of him against her. His flesh was still soft, so he thrust his hand between them and slipped two fingers into her, slowly. She was ragingly hot and moist. She gave a little cry when he removed his fingers again. Then he rubbed himself gently against her, causing her to whimper again. Her head tossed from side to side, her hands caressing his chest, finding his nipples. As her fingers traced little circles, her mouth opened in breathless gasping pleasure. Chakotay knew that somewhere in Sedeka's sex-crazed mind, she wanted soft touches too, the ability to feel and be cherished. He knew that she wanted him as he was lying over her in these moments, feeling her centre hot and wet and throbbing against him. He looked at her face, the closed eyes, listened to her ragged breathing as she gasped in ecstasy. One hand brushed lightly over her lips, her closed eyelids, her hair, cupped one breast and squeezed it lightly. She arched against him.

 "Shhh…" he pressed his fingers against her lips.

 "Please…" she begged.

 "Patience," he breathed

 "Love me, Chakotay…"

 She felt soft against him, pliant, vulnerable. His hand moved to her mane of hair where his fingers clutched at a clump of it. Holding her head in position, he breathed against her ear, all the time moving against her vulva.

 "Open your eyes, my lovely Sedeka."

 She groaned at the delay, her hips moving impatiently against him. Her eyes opened slowly, burning with desire as they fixed trustingly on him. He kissed her mouth, tearing into her lower lip. She growled with pleasure and sighed with the disappointment when he broke off the kiss momentarily. His mouth hovered only a centimetre away from her. He breathed into her, felt her own breath mingling with his. He kept his gaze locked with hers.

 "That's good. Look at me, Sedeka... I want to see your eyes open, so you know when I do this…"

 With a sudden movement, too sudden for her to react, Chakotay jerked her head to the side, and just as suddenly pressed the hypospray into her neck. Sedeka's eyes widened, and Chakotay almost laughed at the stupefied expression on her face as the drug of the hypospray hit her. In an instant, her body relaxed into an unconscious state; her legs that clamped around his waist fell apart. She lay spread before him. Her mouth was still half open as she tried to speak just as the drug took effect. Then her eyes closed slowly. Chakotay climbed off the bed and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

 He looked at the unconscious woman for long, long moments before he calmly dressed himself again. He was sweating from the exertion of concentrating, of holding himself back with vicious force. He looked down at his flesh, flaccid from the moment he entered her quarters and congratulated himself silently.

 You were right, Chakotay. Chakotay awake and in full control of his senses could lose control with only one woman, and that was Kathryn Janeway.

 He had succeeded, proved to himself that what happened on Dorvan V was beyond his control, that his behaviour with Sedeka that day could only come about if he had been drugged with the kind of hallucinogen Sedeka pumped into him. It was an elaborate way in which to get him, and eventually, Kathryn. He had nothing to give Sedeka; he felt only the most intense revulsion. His seduction had been bloodless and he didn't feel any guilt. Sedeka deserved nothing better. It had taken extraordinary control not to get aroused as he lay over her, smiling at the fact that Sedeka had not even noticed, so out of it she was with lust. He felt the nausea again and banked it down. He had work to do.

 Chakotay rifled through his bag and found the tricorder. He opened it and removed the scanner. Very deliberately he ran the scanner over her, made certain that she'd be unconscious for a few hours. Before he left the Vetar, he would administer another double dose.

 His hand hovered over her belly where ironically, Sedeka's hand rested in much the same way as Kathryn held her stomach when she was pregnant. It was strange to see Sedeka like that, so…vulnerable. He shrugged, took the reading.

 "I guessed as much, my evil little Sedeka. You're not pregnant. You were never pregnant, though knowing you, you probably informed my distraught and unhappy wife that you were, just to drive home your hold over us…"

 He snapped the scanner back, closed the tricorder and put it back in his duffel.

  _"Oh, Kathryn, I just know she must have told you. Sedeka is a scheming witch. If she could send you holo-vids of the sex she and I had, she would do anything to drive a wedge between us…even fool you with a bogus pregnancy…"_ Chakotay whispered these words to himself. There was a fierce burn behind his eyelids as he thought of his wife. _"You'll understand one day, my love. Maybe one day you'll understand…"_

 He took one last glance at Sedeka before he started looking around him. Sedeka had been foolish enough to tell him her cabin doubled up as her office as Sub-commander of the Vetar. Now, he knew more or less where to look. He rifled carefully through drawers, the spartan appearance making his search easier.

 He breathed a sigh of relief as he found it behind a wall sculpture.

 "You're predictable after all, Sedeka…"

 He held the little instrument in his hand, balanced it as if he weighed it. Then he walked to her array of computers and only momentarily paused as he considered Sedeka's codes. Inserting the tiny array in its homing slot on the console, he watched with pleasure as the information flashed before him on the screen. A series of codes for the various programmes she had encrypted on her computer, appeared. He tested them one by one, feeling like gagging again when he saw the incriminating scenes with other men, most of them probably high dignitaries. Nothing so far of him with Sedeka on Dorvan V. He did find the texts and research on the plants that Sergei had also researched and tested. Finally, he hit on what he had been looking for.

 "Good. Subdirectory Codeword 'Chakotay'? How droll," he whispered as he entered the code 'Chakotay' and the files appeared on the screen.

 "Computer, run the database version of ChakotayDorvan."

 Immediately, the images that he had seen on Kathryn's PADD played before him on the screen. Because the screen was bigger than that of the PADD, the images were even more damaging, more depraved. He wanted to choke on his nausea. He switched the images off again. He knew that this was Sedeka's private depraved sex hold. Other crew on this vessel would have to hack in to her system to get at these holo-vids. He had no interest in any of the other videos Sedeka had, but he knew it was always to gain a hold over the victim.

 "Computer, delete programme ChakotayDorvan from these records."

 A second later, Chakotay tested his finding. He called up the file for 'ChakotayDorvan'.

 "There is no record on this vessel of any programme by that name."

 "Computer, run all communications files to Commander Chakotay, and those from the Ormskirk to the Vetar."

 Chakotay smiled grimly as all his communications with Sedeka scrolled on the screen. He selected one file at random and opened it. He sighed.

 "Very clever, Sedeka. Very clever."

 Again, holo-vids compiled of his subspace sex with her, in glaring detail the pictures just moved in sickening reality. He closed the file suddenly. Sedeka would have used this against him, eventually. Clever, stupid woman... He knew that since this was encrypted information, no one on board the Vetar would know that he deleted them.

 "Computer, delete all files."

 "Deletion complete," it came a second later.

 Chakotay smiled. The Cardassians' computer voice was male. In a drawer of the desk he found the imager. The Vetar's computers were the only consoles where Sedeka could have made copies. As it were, nowhere on the vessel there was a programme - or any of the others Chakotay found - that showed the pictures. He was satisfied. He deleted it and all their communications from her database. The PADD he had also destroyed soon after Kathryn had given it to him. He was satisfied that there were no records of his association on Dorvan V with Sedeka, or on this vessel. He was satisfied that no matter how hard Sedeka was going to try, he disabled her, in a manner of speaking. All evidence she could use to unsettle Kathryn or engineer a strategy against them had now been erased.

 Chakotay returned to where Sedeka was still lying unconscious. He shrugged. The drug he administered was potent enough, but not lethal. When Sedeka woke up, he would be gone with a two day advantage over the Vetar. He doubted the Vetar would follow his shuttle, even though he was aware that Evek knew he was the one who had been responsible for the explosion on the vessel on which Evek's son, Soren, served. Yes, Chakotay thought. Evek remained in the background for now. Chakotay played Sedeka at her own game. It had taken him weeks after he had first attempted to speak with Kathryn, to get information on Evek and Sedeka. He knew most everything about Evek, and what he didn't know, he just learned scanning through Sedeka's private files.

 A thrill went through him. It was wicked, he knew, to feel he had gained a victory over Sedeka. He didn't feel guilty. Sedeka had no compunction when she seduced him cold-bloodedly, none when she made Kathryn her target. Chakotay watched the Cardassian woman with an impassive air. She lay with her knees spread, her feet only touching at the heels. Sedeka's hand still rested on her belly as if she cradled her bogus baby. The other hand cupped her breast, with her hair long hair fanned untidily over her. He would have liked to see her expression when she woke up, or how she would explain his absence to Gul Evek, or the disappearance of her private files, or... something he was going to leave her with... He shook his head. She'd be livid, then she would try and cover the embarrassment by leaving him alone. A woman like Sedeka would admit to no one that a man had humiliated her, and on a turf she prided herself to be a past master.

 What was she thinking? That he'd make love to her? He grew nauseous at the thought, the rising bile causing him to get up from the chair and stalk around her quarters in an attempt to quell it. He didn't want to touch anything else in her cabin. He would not use her bathroom, touch her water, even though he felt dirty from his earlier touches on her body. He gave a violent shudder.

 He sat down on the chair again.

 "So, Sedeka, what were you hoping to achieve by letting me know you're pregnant? Hmmm?" he asked very softly, imagining she heard him. "I guess you were hoping to trap me, like you've done before. I got away, so a baby would have been a useful tool to blackmail me with, to hold me hostage... Would you have said that?"

 Chakotay thought she wouldn't. She'd be more devious. Not for Sedeka the soft, teary, feel-sorry-for-me-route. The way she handled the latest scam filled him with disbelief from the outset. But, it was just what he needed, and just the way Sedeka would operate. Even if Sedeka were lying about a pregnancy, it was something he sensed from their previous - distasteful - communications, that would have softened her up somewhat, made her weak and vulnerable. She wanted a child with him, the only way she could remain connected to him. That was her problem.

 She wanted the connection to remain.

 "You made a mistake when you sent Kathryn those holo-vids, Sedeka," he told the unconscious woman. "Then you made the mistake of tracking me down. Predictable..."

 Chakotay thought how, after his first, momentous evening with Kathryn at the Command Performance, he had despaired so many nights and days, thought that he wasn't good enough for her, that he didn't deserve her when she did make the first overture to contact him. It had been as difficult for her to contact him as it was for him fearing to call her.

 "The difference, my evil little Sedeka, is that I love Kathryn back. She loves me, and I love her. That is the deal. You want me, I don't want you. Not in a million years. And there lies the point of departure. You tried with devious ways to get me. All Kathryn had to do was smile. I love her; you could never understand that bond, never..."

 He thought of the first time Sedeka contacted him via subspace. He had been distraught, unhappy at the direction his life and fortunes were taking.

 "My wife left me," he said accusingly.

 Inside him the fury raged, but outwardly he kept his cool. He was going to analyse every conversation with Sedeka. After Sergei had informed him of his innocence and how he had been drugged with hallucinogens, Chakotay was on his guard. She would have had things up her sleeve and he was going to find out what it was.

 "Oh, I am so sorry to hear that, Chakotay," Sedeka replied, unable to sound genuinely sorry, probably feeling secretly elated that she succeeded in her secondary quest, her shallow insensitivity breaking through the sorry-looking smile.

 "It's over between us," he led her on.

 "Then, Chakotay, you know you can't deny what happened between us, and you can't deny the strong pull between us," she suggested amiably.

 There was a flash of desire in her eyes, tinged with what he could only describe as Sedeka's brand of tenderness. She wanted him, he realised with blinding clarity. It was not the deliberate, calculating method of seducing him to get him off Dorvan V during its crucial talks with the Federation or to get information from him. Sedeka actually looked like there was more in her eyes than just her bloodless seduction of him. Her eyes had gone for a moment soft, with a tenderness that he couldn't reconcile with her. It was markedly different from the courteous and friendly person who befriended him on Dorvan V. This was different...different. Sedeka looked...in love...

 After that day, on the occasions she contacted him, he played along with her, first teasing her to a frenzy by not saying anything of their time together, and just a hint of sex here and there; then came the sexual innuendos; he reminisced over the sex they had on his homeworld, talked about it in coarse detail, wondering at the way she relished in what they had done. He had gagged afterwards in his bathroom, then scrubbed himself down. But, Sedeka fell for it. He drew her closer and closer into his net, waiting for the right moment to set his own plan into action. He wondered what Gul Evek made of Sedeka's continued association with the man she had to get rid of in the first place, and in such a devastating manner too. Sedeka must have bought Gul Evek over with a story like entrenching the rift she caused, making doubly, triply, a hundredfold certain that Chakotay remained away from Dorvan V, that he posed no political risk. Yeah, he thought. Gul Evek would have fallen for that. But he, Chakotay, wasn't fooled.

 He catalogued every word, every sentence that transpired between them, every facial expression and every movement Sedeka made during their subspace communications. When Sedeka called him a few days ago, way under the impression that they had become an item, he was ready for her. The baby... That was something he had not foreseen, though in retrospect, entirely in character for Sedeka to do if she wanted to destroy his wife, or him... Or gain a foothold. He sensed then that she must have contacted Kathryn with that information. If she wanted to drive home her own advantage, it was just the thing Sedeka would do to keep Kathryn away from him. Didn't he himself tell Sedeka that Kathryn left him? Sedeka was the type who had to make certain Kathryn kept away from him. Even if it weren't true, it was just the leverage he needed to determine Sedeka's latest motives. And even though Kathryn did leave him, it was something he hated doing, seducing Sedeka to the point where he could do what he had just done: effectively killing off her intimidation and removing all opportunity she had to attack them again.

 Chakotay thought of Kathryn's expression when he contacted her via subspace a month ago. It was only later, when he could think straight, that he realised she must have heard some other distressing news. Kathryn looked totally shattered and bitter and angry. He had gone into his old insecure feelings that he was never good enough for her anyway, but later... When he could become rational again, he knew just how terribly Sedeka must have treated Kathryn. There was no doubt in his mind now that Kathryn thought he made a baby with Sedeka.

 "Oh, Kathryn, maybe one day you'll know the full story. Maybe one day you'll understand that I've done this for you. I could never sleep with another woman. Never. What happened had not been in my control. Sedeka will not bother you again. She will be humiliated, but her pride will prevent her from admitting that she's been bested at her own game..."

 Chakotay leaned back and wiped his brow. Kathryn's face flashed before him. For the first time it was not the face of the wounded doe as she ran away from him that fateful night on Dorvan V. It was Kathryn smiling, with the sun gleaming in her hair; Kathryn whose eyes laughed with humour in their moments of intimacy. Chakotay felt his eyes burn, and he blinked hard to prevent the tears from falling.

 "We're free of her, Kathryn. She won't humiliate you with vile sex pictures, because I've made certain that it's deleted, permanently gone... She won't even contact you again. It's the least I could do for you, my love…my love…"

 Chakotay sighed again. Kathryn was finished with him. He had to accept that; he still found it difficult to imagine he'll never see her again, and when they did, there would be nothing between them. For now, he was happy in the knowledge that he could do this for Kathryn, for them both.

 For them both.

 Chakotay rose stiffly. As soon as he was back on the Ormskirk, he was going to use the sonic shower and burn Sedeka's smell off his skin. He was fast developing a headache, but it would have to remain until he was on the shuttle and away from the Vetar. He opened the duffel and removed the med-kit. Taking a phial from it, he filled the hypospray. The drug resembled the Cardassians' strongest alcoholic beverage, and when Sedeka woke up, she'd think that she had been drinking heavily. She would find out instantly that she'd been tricked, but the inebriation was the story she was going to tell Gul Evek. Chakotay administered the spray with a soft, quick hiss, then stood back again. Sedeka would wake up in about 36 hours. No one would suspect anything since she had already informed Gul Evek and the rest of the crew she'd be holed up in her cabin with a man.

 He would tell the crew in the shuttle bay that their talks had been concluded satisfactorily more than a day ahead of schedule, but that Sub-commander Sedeka did not wish to be disturbed during that time as it was still her off duty period.

 Making certain everything was put back in place, Chakotay removed an object from the duffel, closing the bag again. He walked to her bed and stared emotionless at her body, at the way her lips were parted, her long hair fanned over her shoulders.

 "Beautiful woman. Beautiful, scheming woman...." he whispered as he looked down at the freshly conked out Sub-commander.

 "It was the one mistake you made, Sedeka. The one mistake."

 He snorted.

 "You fell in love."

 The words were cutting, dripping with sarcasm. Chakotay shook his head. He knew that somewhere in the future, his path might cross with this woman again, but he would know that the next time they crossed, he'd kill her for real.

 "You should have known, Sedeka, that I am a warrior, and right now, an angry warrior. When you thought to hurt my wife, you did something stupid, very stupid. Didn't you know that I would protect Kathryn Janeway with my very life if you hurt her? You touch my family, and you touch me. For that I'd do anything to bring you down, anything, and I found the perfect method."

 Chakotay paused for a moment, stared dispassionately at the quiet Cardassian. Then he spread her legs even wider and pushed an oversized and very stiff replica of a human penis into her, forcing the broad organ with a sudden hard thrust, mindless of how her body twitched as her folds got caught and stretched until the penis was stuck firmly inside her. He had prepared for this; he pulled the leather thongs at the base of the dildo around her waist and secured it tightly to her body. Then he pressed the balls of the penis, and it started vibrating.

 "That way, when you wake up thirty six hours from now, you'll think you've been fucked endlessly for that time. You'll be sore for weeks because, you evil troll, that thing has stretched you so wide, a horse could get in there. The poor wretched penis will spurt your own concoction you used against me, at four hour intervals which in your unconscious state will keep you blessedly thinking Chakotay is fucking you all the way to Cardassian heaven."

 He stood back and looked at his handiwork. He gave a snort.

 "When it's business you're doing, Sedeka, don't let your emotions get in the way..."

 He left her cabin quietly, and half an hour later Chakotay was on his way to the USS Ormskirk.

 ****

 A few days later Chakotay stood in the sick bay of the Ormskirk, with an irate Sergei Karkoff snapping the tricorder shut.

 "You've completely recovered from you leg injury, Chak, you're fit as a damned fiddle. So what's the deal, with the seconds degree burns over ninety percent of your body?"

 Chakotay looked at his friend and shrugged. "I passed out in the shower. That good enough for you?"

 "Hell, that's a scenario that could happen, though I doubt it was like that in your case, Commander," he addressed Chakotay formerly. "I've already determined that you stood under your sonic shower for a full fifteen minutes _until_ you passed out. If you weren't hailed at that time... Dammit, Chakotay, we had to _fish_ you out of your shower! Care to explain?"

 Chakotay stood with his hands on his hips and only his eyes showed the flash of surprise. "So you know."

 "What happened on the Vetar, Chak? You got back more than a week early, and on your return, you burn all the skin off your body in your shower - "

 "Let's just say it's something I had to see to, okay? The - the burn was accidental."

 Sergei gave an inelegant snort. He wanted to say something more, then changed his tack. Chakotay breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could relax too much, Sergei said:

 "So, I'm not supposed to ask how you replicated some of the narcotics you took with you?"

 "What?"

 "Or, the med-kit you requisitioned - illegally - from stores - "

 "Jeez..."

 "Or the hallucinogen Sedeka used on you..."

 "Sergei, come on, it was something I had to do. Don't - don't bug me about it will you?"

 "You got rid of Sedeka?"

 Chakotay flushed deeply. He turned on his heel, but before he could walk out of sickbay, Sergei spoke again, making him pause to look at the doctor. He saw how Sergei waited for his response. He sighed.

 "Yes…yes, in a manner of speaking."

 Sergei coughed.

 "Chakotay…"

 Chakotay turned a little cold at the tone in Sergei's voice.

 "Yeah?"

 "You're my best friend, my comrade. We're on our way back to earth, for a short spell. Perhaps you could speak with Kathryn - "

 "Out of the question, Sergei." Chakotay pursed his lips.

 "You've been pursuing something with the Cardassian - " Sergei's red face looked redder, his copper hair suddenly flaming in sympathy with his face and anger.

 "Which is none of your business."

 "Which is hurting Kathryn even more, now - "

 Chakotay blanched at the directness of Sergei's statement.

 "What the hell do you mean? I just got rid - "

 "She knows, Chakotay."

 "What?"

 "That Sedeka is pregnant."

 "H-how do _you_ k-know?" he asked.

 Sergei sighed. He seemed reluctant, was the impression Chakotay got, to tell him. He didn't want to say something about Kathryn that affected him.

 "Kathryn called me on subspace, Chak. Wanted to know if I thought you'd call her again - "

 Before Sergei could continue, Chakotay jumped forward and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him towards his office. Inside the office, he let go of Sergei as suddenly as he grabbed him. Sergei fell back in his chair.

 "Kathryn wanted to speak with me?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

 "Yeah, she wasn't sure you'd want to respond. She told me she shut you off six weeks ago."

 "Jeez, Sergei. Now you're telling me!"

 "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I noticed you became closed off at times; you let Sedeka's name slip through once or twice, so I thought - "

 "You thought I've got the hots for Sedeka?"

 "What the hell was I supposed to think? What the hell was Kathryn supposed to think when Sedeka told her of what you're still doing with her?" Sergei drew in his breath, then added reluctantly: "Kathryn told me what Sedeka said to her. It wasn't easy for her to tell a third person, my brother, but her eyes were…empty… I didn't tell you because…because it looked like you were getting caught up with Sedeka again, Chak."

 Chakotay was livid at his friend's lack of trust. He couldn't see past how his own actions could lead his friend to be convinced he was bedding Sedeka.

 "You, my best friend," he almost shouted, "who showed me a whole new world by encouraging me to go on a date with Kathryn, thereby changing my whole life? You? My God, Sergei! Don't you think you should have let me be the judge of that? What were you thinking?"

 "I'm sorry, Comrade. I was just thrown for a while when you became preoccupied every time Sedeka called you on subspace."

 Sergei's hands went up in a defensive pose. Chakotay relented a little as he realised how he could have revealed himself to his friend, especially those times when Roger Petranoff had to inform him a subspace communication from the Vetar waited for him... He should see how they could talk... It didn't make him feel any better about what he had done with Sedeka, but he could see how his friends were concerned, how they sensed he was getting embroiled with Sedeka.

 "You could still have told me," Chakotay said, his voice sounding sullen.

 "I'm sorry, you hear me?" Sergei continued. "Kathryn was upset; she wanted to speak with you, but you were gone, to Sedeka. What could I tell her? I lied to her, fabricated something, then..." Sergei paused, his words hanging heavy in the still air of sick bay. He gave a deep sigh. "It inadvertently slipped out that you went to rendezvous with the Vetar... Kathryn - " Sergei coughed and look embarrassed. "Kathryn is back at Headquarters."

 "What?"

 "You didn't know?"

 Chakotay drew in a deep breath. He wiped his brow. Kathryn, he swore, wanted nothing to do with him anymore. How could he know? It must have been something Kathryn had just decided. Still, why would she leave the Crimond? Why leave the Crimond?

 "N-no," Chakotay admitted.

 "Then you don't know…"

 "Know what, Sergei? Know what?" Chakotay turned cold as he looked at his friend. Sergei shifted little nervously in his chair as Chakotay towered above him.

 "Chakotay, what I'm going to say, is what I've told Kathryn on the day Dalene got married, to tell you. I thought you knew already. Then, I should have known you didn't, since you weren't talking about it. Kathryn obviously hasn't told you. Her intentions were there, okay? She was going to tell you. But then she got that call from - from Sedeka…"

 Chakotay bent down and pulled Sergei from the chair. His hands trembled as he made Sergei face him. He hissed.

 "She was going to tell me what, Sergei?"

 Sergei had a look on his face that suggested Chakotay was stupid not to have known long ago. Chakotay felt a cold shiver up his spine as he braced for Sergei's revelation.

 "Kathryn is pregnant, Chakotay. She's six and a half months pregnant."

 ***

  **END CHAPTER 20**

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK THREE: ABYSS

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

**October 2370**

Dr Elizabeth Paris was worried. Kathryn Janeway lay on the biobed with her eyes closed. She had shown little reaction to her report that the baby was fine. Elizabeth studied the readout, watched how the baby's heart beat. She had handed Kathryn a tricorder, but Kathryn had just given a cursory glance, then looked away again.

 Kathryn was suffering from depression. Already she had given her patient a mild relaxant, but more she had been hesitant to do. Kathryn's baby was developing well; it was Kathryn who was showing a disturbing lack of interest in her baby.

 It worried Elizabeth Paris. It worried her a great deal.

 She had received Kathryn's medical records pertaining to her pregnancy from Dr Benaren, Kathryn's physician on the Crimond, who had added a comment to his reports. Dr Benaren was just as concerned and now she, Kathryn's physician here at Starfleet medical, had a problem getting Kathryn excited about her baby. Elizabeth remembered her friend Gretchen's words when Kathryn's mother spoke about how pleased her daughter had been when she discovered she was pregnant.

 Now, that had changed.

 "Kathryn, your baby is doing fine, under the circumstances - "

 "But, Dr Paris?"

 Elizabeth sighed. These Starfleet captains gave her a headache. They were stubborn, too headstrong to realise they were wrong, or accept their condition or situation with grace. Kathryn was difficult, but given her circumstances…

"But you are not, Kathryn. It may not be good for Hannah, eventually."

 Kathryn sat up slowly on the bed. She was just over seven months pregnant, and feeling the discomfort. She gave Elizabeth a furtive glance before the doctor helped her off the bed.

 "You can tell me, Kathryn…" Elizabeth said kindly.

 "I - " There was a pause. Kathryn looked away, then, as if she decided to reveal something to the doctor, looked Elizabeth straight in the eyes. "I - Chakotay, he - he is no longer with me, Doctor. You must be aware of that."

 Elizabeth moved from the monitor and touched Kathryn's shoulder gently. Then she nodded. There was not a senior official at Headquarters who didn't know that Commander Chakotay and Captain Kathryn Janeway had split up. Captain Janeway was pregnant, due to give birth in December, and her husband was nowhere to be seen, although the Ormskirk had docked at Earth's Orbital station once, as well as at McKinley Station. Surely, the Commander would never have wasted time being by his wife's side?

 "Yes…" Elizabeth replied softly. "I know you've parted ways, though I - "

 "Don't understand how it could be?" Kathryn asked bitterly.

 "You had an unbreakable bond, Kathryn. If - if you ask me, it's still there. Perhaps Commander Chakotay could be informed at least to be present at his child's birth."

 "No!" Kathryn reacted vehemently. "No," she repeated more levelly, "I don't think he's interested anymore. Besides, I left him, Doctor, with no indication that we could continue where we left off."

 "Where did you leave off, Kathryn?" Elizabeth asked.

 She had heard rumours which remained rumours. Nothing was borne out of any fact. The only persons who could possibly know why Kathryn and Chakotay have separated, were Kathryn and Chakotay. Even Dr Benaren couldn't say anything, and Elizabeth doubted where he felt bound by his doctor-patient confidentiality not to divulge anything. Benaren simply didn't know. The only clear fact that was available for Starfleet's rumour mill to roll on, was that Kathryn and Chakotay's troubles started when he had been at Dorvan V during the talks to sign the Federation-Cardassian Treaty. From that point it seemed Kathryn Janeway changed.

 Kathryn gave a deep sigh. It look clear to Elizabeth that she felt embarrassed and uncomfortable to say anything more personal. But, if it could help Kathryn out of her lethargy, she'd take anything.

 "I know you will keep this in your confidence, Doctor. So I'll tell you the short version: Chakotay cheated on me."

 Before Elizabeth had time to recover and open her mouth, Kathryn's hand went up.

 "And that's all I can say. A lot has happened in the meantime that has made it impossible to effect a reconciliation, Doctor. So, I'll just have my baby, alone, is that understood?"

 Kathryn's lips pursed together after she spoke, her eyes getting a sharp, flinty look in them. Elizabeth hated it when they did that. Going into formal rank mode when they needed to drive home something, giving an order as if she were on her vessel and her order had to be obeyed. Kathryn was heading for more pain. She was seriously in danger of jeopardising her own health and emotional equilibrium. Truth was, Kathryn Janeway was emotionally overwrought, a fact borne out by the way she handled Elizabeth's query. Of course she could have her baby alone, but the dark circles under her eyes, the deep yearning that she didn't realise she revealed, told Elizabeth a different story.

 Kathryn wanted her husband. She needed her husband, needed to know he was just round the corner and watching over her, being protective and basking in that protection.

 In short, Kathryn missed Chakotay.

 "Well, Kathryn, I believe you have a few classes today. I'll see you in two weeks then. Here's some nutrient supplements. Please take it, Kathryn, will you?"

 She smiled at her unhappy patient. Kathryn's face remained tense, unsmiling as she took the phials.

 "Thank you, Doctor."

 When Kathryn left the examining room, Elizabeth Paris stared long at the door through which her patient exited. There was little she could do except ensure that Kathryn's baby at least, was safe and healthy, which was the case at present. For the rest, she was hitting an impasse with her patient who seemed too implacable to listen to good advice. It could also be that Kathryn was simply unable to deal with her husband's defection, and that was something difficult to try and convince Kathryn: that she should kiss and make up with Chakotay. While she had been examined, Kathryn had never once rubbed her belly, or caressed her baby like she had seen so many mothers-to-be do when they were in their third trimester. No secret looks, or loving whispers, nothing. It disturbed Elizabeth.

 As miraculous as Kathryn and Chakotay's first meeting was when they arrived at the Command Performance and everyone had stood awed at the complete and obvious chemistry and attraction between the two, so miraculous was their union, their relationship. For something as deep and abiding as that to have foundered, was almost impossible to grasp, as was clear from her conversations with Owen Paris, Adam Ponsonby and Gretchen Janeway.

 She sighed as she stacked away her instruments. Minutes later her surgery looked ready for her next patient. When the patient entered, Elizabeth Paris was still thinking of the sad look on Kathryn Janeway's face.

 ***

 Kathryn was glad it was weekend. She was tired, her back had started giving her trouble and she missed Chakotay. It didn't matter how she tried to get him out of her mind, or how busy she made herself, he crept back in her mind, where he remained, unseen yet so tangible. Every time her thoughts went to him, it was accompanied with such a vortex of emotions that her heart beat faster and she found it difficult to concentrate. In one of her classes a young cadet, also of Native American origin, was just another reminder of Chakotay. She couldn't get away fast enough as she imagined the fresh-faced cadet to be a younger version of Chakotay.

 Those times she tried recalling good memories, they were always intercepted by the bad ones. Most of the time she would see Chakotay's face as he tried to expiate his guilt, or see Sedeka's face when she informed her that she and Chakotay had made a baby together. Kathryn had been through hell that first week after Sedeka's devastating news, and her hurt had made her lash out at Chakotay. It was difficult to get beyond that reality, a reality which her errant husband had created. Kathryn looked down at her own swollen belly. In less than two months she would give birth, but she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think about the prospect of raising her baby without the baby's father. She knew she had to, but her initial extreme joy when she heard that she was pregnant, had made place for bitterness, a hatred almost, towards Chakotay.

 Once he had loved her. Now, he was part of Sedeka's world. It wasn't that difficult to realise that when she called Sergei Karkoff on the Crimond a month ago. She had wanted to make contact with Chakotay, was not certain that he'd want to talk to her. She wanted to tell Chakotay about the baby, just like she had wanted to when she went to Dorvan V. Sergei was Chakotay's best friend, and she thought naturally that he would know whether Chakotay's state of mind was such that he would listen to her. When Sergei bumbled uncharacteristically through an explanation of Chakotay's absence from the Ormskirk, it didn't take much intelligence to deduce that Chakotay had gone to Sedeka. Sergei... Kathryn sighed. Sergei inadvertently revealed that Chakotay had gone to rendezvous with the Vetar, a Cardassian vessel.

 Sedeka was on that vessel. What official business could Chakotay have with Sedeka if it weren't give the mother of his unborn baby support? Kathryn gave a shudder. And, Chakotay would most likely have resumed their explosive relationship. He would most probably lie with Sedeka and make love to her. He would most probably enjoy spreading Sedeka's legs and settle himself between them. He would most probably kiss Sedeka in an intimacy once reserved for his wife. Kathryn closed her eyes and tried to banish those meandering, betraying thoughts.

 Lately she had wanted to punish herself mercilessly by imagining Chakotay with Sedeka. She tortured herself with those images, inflicted pain on herself so intensely that most nights she just sat up straight in her bed and stared into nothingness... sit still all night. She had begun to welcome the darkness, picturing her husband and his lover together, how they would make love, how Chakotay would stroke his lover's stomach protectively. Then the old bitterness took hold of Kathryn again and she would feel anew the pain as it pierced her heart.

 Now that her short teaching stint at the Academy was completed, the only joy she took in her life was that she was back in Indiana. She hadn't wanted to go back to their apartment in San Francisco, and had instead, stayed at her mother's apartment which Phoebe and Rodea sometimes used. The home she and Chakotay shared had too many memories. She wanted to get away from it, wanted to prevent herself from lapsing into old, happy recollections, only to wake up to the reality that Chakotay was still gone and that he'll never come back.

 She sat down under the tree - their tree, she thought sadly - groaning a little as she went down into a sitting position on the afghan she had spread out. Ceara had barked excitedly as she tried to clamber over her mistress, but Kathryn caught her and gave her a quick cuddle. The dog whimpered before it settled against her, her head pressed against Kathryn's belly as if she tried to feel the baby's kicking. Kathryn shrugged cynically. What wouldn't she have given to have Chakotay rub her belly, rub her aching back. Why should he? He was already safely draped all over Sedeka. Kathryn could feel the baby kick, but it was just a fact that registered absently. She hadn't prepared anything for the baby. No crib, no mobile, no soft baby clothes that could thaw the coldness inside her. Nothing to make her look forward to the child. She guessed that she was still in some shock, even months later, but the prospect of feeding, of letting the baby suckle on a nipple, held no excitement.

 " _Dear God,"_ she prayed softly. _"I know I shouldn’t feel like this. I can't help it. My baby will need a mother and I'm not certain if I can be one if I don't look forward to her birth..."_

 Kathryn leaned against the trunk and closed her eyes. Except for painful thoughts of Chakotay, she felt dead inside. A cold, deep darkness had settled in her heart. Once after Sedeka had sent holo-vids to her, Kathryn had thought that she could reach out to Chakotay again and accept him back in her life. She had not had much pride then, thinking she'd take him back because she didn't want to lose him, that she loved him so much she could overlook his transgression as an aberration, a one off incident she had witnessed. Then came the second blow. Sedeka was pregnant. It was so possible, so perfectly possible, yet the thought never entered her head. And Sedeka... She wasted no time telling her how close she and Chakotay had become.

 So when Chakotay called just after Sedeka, his words corroborated Sedeka's claims. He wanted to tell her something, something important, something that couldn't wait. That must have been what he wanted to tell her: his lover was pregnant with a child fathered by him. Chakotay with a wife who was pregnant and a lover who was pregnant. She wondered idly if Sergei told Chakotay of her condition. The occasions she had wanted to, it just turned into such a terrible catastrophe of anger and bitterness and missed signals. Especially when Sedeka called her again after she shut him off. She could still hear Sedeka's wheedling, syrupy voice.

 "So, Captain Janeway, has Chakotay told you our wonderful news?"

 She had closed communication so abruptly that she hardly noticed how her hands were shaking. Chakotay could go to hell. But Kathryn steeled herself at such irrational outpourings of anger and considered - or tried to - rationally, Chakotay's role in her own child's life. Chakotay deserved to know about the baby. As the father, she couldn't deny him that right. That was what her head said. Her heart was the organ overriding cold logic and rationale and which turned her into a seething mass of indecision and the urge to hurt Chakotay back for what he had done to her. On some level, she acknowledged that a man could stray from his partner, even though their relationship was rock solid. She could even accept that a wife who was the injured party, could take the husband back and accept that he had made a mistake.

 But her heart burned with shame and humiliation. She felt weak, inadequate that she could not mean enough to her husband for him to remain loyal to her.

And so, every time she thought of Chakotay and saw again how Sedeka sat impaled on him, Kathryn's heart betrayed her, made her unforgiving, made her want to punish him. Yes, she would like to see him beg for mercy when the chips were down for him. She would like to see him in dark tunnels she found herself in and unable to come out; that he can remain there and think about what he had done to her.

 She must have dozed off because she jerked to wakefulness when Ceara suddenly pricked her ears and clambered off her lap.

"What's wrong, Ceara? You spotted a bird? Unlucky bird. I hope it gets away..."

 The dog gave a few short barks as she turned in the direction of the small copse at the end of the shuttle launching pad, not a hundred metres away. Kathryn hadn't seen any flitter arrive or even a shuttle... She should speak to Phoebe about security around the property for unauthorised landings.

The dog looked back at Kathryn, as if unsure when to move, when her curiosity won out and she started moving.

 "Come here, sweetie," Kathryn encouraged the dog, but now it had run off in the direction of the clump of trees. Kathryn grinned as she watched the dog, still much of a large pup really, run ungainly away from her.

 "Come back here!" Kathryn said, her voice trailing into softness, then trailed away completely as she realised Ceara was not in Obedience Mode.

 She gave another sigh and leaned back against the tree. Chakotay's image flashed before her, and strangely, this time, it was a smiling Chakotay with deep dimples as he looked the night she first saw him when he stood in her doorway.

  _"Hello, I'm Chakotay..."_

_"I'm Kathryn Janeway..."_

_"I love you in every day's most quiet needs..."_

_"I didn't know your read Elizabeth Browning..."_

_"Not until I met you, Kathryn, darling..."_

 She didn’t realise how her hands had gone to her belly for the first time, in a soft, gentle caress. She did not feel the tears as they dripped hotly on her hands.

 ***

He stood in the shadows of the copse and in the distance he could see her. She stood under their oak tree, the one that had become theirs. He knew if he stood by the tree, he could still see the heart he had carved there with their names inside the heart. That day they had been like two teenagers in love; they were in a mood to do sentimental things.

 "I'm only eternalising our names," he had said when she asked why he wanted to chop down a tree with a pocket knife.

 "Oh?"

 "Kathryn, honey, you should be glad it's not my hunting knife I'm using..."

 "I give up," she had said when she stood next to him and saw how neatly he had drawn the heart and carved their names. "Chakotay loves KJ..." she had murmured lovingly. "I like that. I like that...very much..."

 Then he took her into his arms and together they looked at it and talked about their future. Kathryn's fingers had traced the outlines again, and the next moment her fingers - the same ones that touched the heart, touched his lips. His eyes had closed and for a few wild seconds he despaired of ever losing Kathryn. He wondered then how she could love him with so much fire and loyalty, how she could give her whole heart to him without condition. Kathryn did and with that she had given him the rarest of all gifts: her life for his.

 Still, even from the distance he was looking, something about Kathryn's stance disturbed him a little. Not once did she rub over her belly and touch her unborn child with the kind of fierce motherly pride and love and protection he had seen Svetlana do, or the way he had seen his mother caress her belly when she was pregnant with his sister Sekaya. Kathryn stood with her hands at her sides and the dog stood around, lapping at her ankles. Chakotay smiled. It was probably Ceara, looking ungainly as she changed from pup to dog. He wondered if Kathryn did name the dog Ceara....

 When Kathryn sat down on the afghan, the dog made herself comfortable against Kathryn, nuzzling her nose against her mistress the resting her head against her belly. Kathryn stroked the dog and Chakotay grimaced. She wasn't stroking her own swollen belly. His baby was in there... His baby...their baby...

 "Love her please, Kathryn," he pleaded softly. "Love her please. She's innocent. I'm the one who screwed up..."

 It was a vain plea. Kathryn leaned back against the tree, her hands at her side. Chakotay sighed. He had become a little demented in the sickbay of the Ormskirk when Sergei informed him of Kathryn's pregnancy. He had gone cold with shock; the heat suffused his face and then he almost beat his friend up. If it hadn't been for the nurse and two crewmen who entered sick bay, there was no knowing just how seriously he could have injured his friend. Sergei had been apologetic and he had controlled himself enough to hold back from killing Sergei.

 It wasn't Sergei's fault. Hell, it wasn't even Kathryn's fault. She must have wanted to tell him. But he couldn't blame her. She was under the impression that Sedeka was pregnant by him. No one else knew of that except Sergei, and he was talking to no one. The unhappy truth was that Sedeka wasn't, so how would Kathryn know that Sedeka had just meant to inflict more pain, by telling her a lie? How could he tell her?

 Now he stood looking at his wife. He couldn't stay away, God help him. He just couldn't. Inside Kathryn was the connection, a baby they wanted so badly. How many nights hadn't they talked of another baby? How many times hadn't he told her to be patient? Now, he was drawn to Kathryn, and again the old unbelievably strong attraction pulled him towards her. He wanted to touch her, hold her in his arms and kiss her, tell her everything would be alright. He wanted to caress their unborn child and whisper to his baby, like he had seen Sergei do with Svetlana. He didn't have much pride left. All he wanted to do, was try once more...once more... He must tell her Sedeka was not pregnant...tell her everything...

 "I must go to her," he whispered softly. "I must go and tell her and relieve her of that burden..."

 He took one step forward, then stalled as something pressed against him. Chakotay turned ice cold.

 "Take one step, Chakotay, and I'll not hesitate to kill you."

 Phoebe Janeway.

 He flinched but kept his gaze on Kathryn in the distance. She looked like she was dozing as she leaned against the trunk of the oak. Phoebe's voice bristled with ill-contained anger. She was livid enough to carry out her threat if he moved. When he stirred, the phaser dug harder into his back, but he didn't flinch again..

 "I won't. Put away the phaser."

 "Oh no, I'll take my chances with a suspended sentence, Chakotay. You don't move. Better still, leave."

 Chakotay turned and blanched at the look in Phoebe's eyes. She really looked dangerously on the brink of killing him. And, she didn't put away the phaser. He wondered how she got there so stealthily.

 "I will leave. I wasn't planning on staying. Kathryn…she looks - "

 "Unhappy? Bitter? In deep depression? Like her life is over because someone - you! - had just crushed her heart - "

 Chakotay pushed the phaser so it didn't point at him.

 "I get the message," he said bleakly.

 "I don't think you do," she shot back at him. "Did Kathryn tell you about Justin and how he died?" When Chakotay nodded, Phoebe looked at where her sister was sitting, then back at Chakotay. "She almost died, did you know?"

 "She told me she was depressed - "

 "Hallelujah! Did she tell you what it did to her family watching her slide into an abyss from where they feared she'd never come out of? Did she? Did Kathryn tell you that she stopped eating for days and literally, before our very eyes, withered away?"

 What Phoebe was telling him, Chakotay could only imagine. He wasn't privy to Kathryn's past pain; he appreciated what detail Kathryn did give him, understanding that they had a lifetime to tell one another those episodes from their lives that pained them most. What Phoebe was telling him, shocked him a little. It didn't sound like his Kathryn. She was so strong, so together, that falling apart at the seams seemed so far away. He couldn't reconcile the Kathryn he knew with one who withered away in her bed, not coming out of the darkness because the light was too blinding. Light meant reality; it meant facing what was inevitable, dealing with it and coming to terms with it. Darkness meant illusion where she could imagine a charade where everything appeared what it was before, except, it wasn't real.

 That Kathryn had been there, pained him anew. He never meant to hurt her. He didn't ever want to see her hurt, or unhappy. But he had been given only a glimpse then of the unhappy Kathryn. Only a glimpse. Phoebe and her mother had been there, when Kathryn refused to reach for the light.

 "I'm sorry, Phoebe. I really am…I never meant to harm Kathryn. You know that, Phoebe. There are - were…circumstances…"

 It was as if Phoebe ignored his plea.

 "So help me out here, you jerk. Kathryn could eventually deal with a Justin who was dead. After all, death is real, it is final. Justin will never come back. But Chakotay is alive and well and fucking his way through Sector 450 while his wife is pregnant and knows how he shacked himself up with his lover. I should be very happy, thank you very much," she bit out sarcastically.

 "Phoebe, spirits! You too angry right now…"

 "Damned right I'm angry!" There was a furious flash in her eyes, and when she turned to look at her sister again in the distance, Chakotay saw the equally fierce family pride, the kind that made relatives want to kill if one of their own were hurt by a third party. Chakotay didn't feel part of the family in those moments Phoebe looked at Kathryn, and for a moment the old insecurity overwhelmed him again. He felt shut out, unable to explain himself, unable to gain entry. He knew he screwed up, knew that he screwed…

 Phoebe turned to him.

"You broke her heart, Chakotay. Maybe that thought needs qualification. You didn't break Kathryn's heart," she said vehemently, a mist forming in her eyes. "You just broke her, Chakotay. You plain and simple broke her. Once before, my mother and I were there and we picked Kathryn up from the depths of the abyss she sank into. Once before, we were able to revive her battered spirit, to get her fighting back again." Phoebe paused, taking a deep breath. "Chakotay, my sister crawled her way out, you hear me? She crawled out of the darkness, barely able to walk, but she did. She took her first faltering steps and didn't look back…"

 Phoebe's eyes shone with angry tears. Chakotay stood still, his hands at his sides. He was unable to respond to Phoebe's heated defense of her sister. How could he respond? Everything Phoebe Janeway said was true. She didn't lie.

 "You once said you'd rather die than hurt Kathryn…" Phoebe said again, a little calmer than before, but no less angered by his presence on the Janeway property.

 "I meant it, Phoebe," he replied quietly.

 "Then, Chakotay, as far as Kathryn is concerned, you are dead. You don't deserve her. You've already destroyed her. Look at her, Chakotay. What do you see? A person who is broken? Devastated? A person who lies in her dark room contemplating how she could ever love the offspring of a man who ruined her life? Does she look like that? No, right? Because, Chakotay, that's how Kathryn is. Outwardly calm, you'll never think anything is wrong. Not if you don't know her or is an acquaintance. But I am pretty damned certain you can see how she suffers. It's in the things she _doesn't_ do, isn't it?"

 His face lost all colour when Phoebe said that. He looked away, trying to avert her gaze, but Phoebe spoke again, every word crushing him, driving him further and further away.

 Kathryn's suffering could be seen in the things she didn't do…How true...

 "She never speaks about the baby, Chakotay," Phoebe cut into his thoughts. "She never caresses her belly like I've seen some pregnant women do, with that secret little smile, you know. She doesn't touch. She used to, a lot, before the Cardassian entered the picture. Now, that's what you see. Kathryn would rather stroke that dog you gave her, than acknowledge her baby. I know her name is to be Hannah, but Kathryn never speaks to her baby, never addresses her as Hannah…It's as if she has no identity."

No identity. Jaime had identity.

  _We gave him a name, Kathryn. Acknowledge him..._

_Jaime_

Chakotay's hand reached for Phoebe in an entreating gesture. When he saw her expression, his hand dropped again.

 "Phoebe, then let me - "

 "Keep away from her, Chakotay, for as God is my witness, I'll kill you. My sister is heading for the abyss, and this time, I'm not certain whether we'll _ever_ be able to make her crawl out of it again…"

 Their attention was diverted for a moment when the dog suddenly jumped up, as if it heard their voices. It ran towards them, yelping excitedly. Chakotay watched as Kathryn tried to raise herself from the ground, her waving hands indicating she was calling the dog back. Then Phoebe's voice cut in: cold, resolute. The phaser was pointed at him again. He knew what she was going to say and he gave a resigned sigh.

 "Leave, Chakotay…."

 Chakotay looked one last time at Kathryn, felt the old terrible burn behind his eyelids. He reached for his pocket and took out the site-to-site transporter. He keyed in the coordinates.

 "Goodbye, Phoebe," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

 In the next second, a soft glissando, and Chakotay was gone.

 ***

 Chakotay materialised in his apartment with Phoebe's words still ringing in his ears. He threw the transporter down on the coffee table and looked around him. It was afternoon, but already the cold had started to creep into his bones. The walkways were lined with trees of which their growth was so controlled that they looked artificial. It was such a major difference from Indiana and the Janeways' farm. There, he could see even from where he stood, the leaves of the giant oak under which Kathryn sat, floating to the ground and settling softly around her. It was fall... Once she had taken a leaf and removed it from her hair, and smiled up at him.

 It was such a familiar gesture that he gave a little sob at the memory. He calmed himself quickly. He had to be on the Ormskirk in four days and there were so many things he wanted to tie up.

 Tie up. It sounded so final. How final, was only underscored by Phoebe's heated tirade against him. She hated him. He couldn't look her in the eyes again and tell her of his innocence. What much did it help now? Phoebe believed the worst, and so did Kathryn. Only in Phoebe's case, she was unforgiving, unmoved by his entreaty.

 Kathryn...

  _"Maybe one day, Chakotay... Maybe one day I can forgive you..."_

He tried to cling to those words. No matter what happened to him in future, no matter where he was, he'd like to remember those words of Kathryn.

 But now, he had things to do. Leave, as Phoebe so heartlessly said. He was going to leave anyway. There was Kathryn and there was the baby that could keep him here. It was possible to teach again at the Academy. But, he had no intention of facing the humiliating prospect of pleading once more with to remain within her orbit and share something of her aura, only to have her reject him again.

 He closed himself ruthlessly from that thought. In his bedroom he collected his duffel and started packing a few things. He would not return to this apartment again. Kathryn was free to use it, though he doubted that. Still, he wanted to keep it. He could hope, couldn't he?

 Hope...

 The bottom drawer was pulled open. A few PADDS, mostly poetry he had downloaded from the Ormskirk's database, some private logs which he had once told Kathryn she was free to read. He had nothing to hide, so he hid nothing. The PADDS were taken out and stacked neatly on the bed. He went back to the drawer and his eyes fixed on the oblong silver box. He grimaced. Kathryn had never asked him what was in it and on their wedding day she had admitted that she thought he was going to give her the box.

 Chakotay lifted the box out and opened it. He felt the burning in his eyes again. A nineteenth century analogue watch secured on a silver fob chain lay nestled on the bed of black velvet. He removed the watch, and his fingers trembled as the chain dangled over his hand. He turned the watch and looked at the inscription on the back.

 He gave a deep sigh and put the watch carefully back in the case. He looked at the other collectibles on the bed, then on an impulse put the case back in the drawer. He was a little cramped when he rose to his feet again and walked with his things to the lounge, placing them on the coffee table. He had not taken these things with him on his missions into the Beta and Gamma Quadrants and other sectors of deep space. He had always been happy enough with his silver framed photograph of Kathryn in uniform, that stood on his desk in his office on the Ormskirk, the small photograph of her laughing, her hair loose and fanning in the breeze with the sun caught in its strands. For a moment he closed his eyes and felt his chest constrict with pain. His medicine wheel he brought from the Ormskirk as well as his medicine bundle, joined the rest of the items.

 "This," he said bitterly, "is the sum total of my life..."

 He thought of Kathryn as he saw her, leaning against their oak. He was worried about her, seriously concerned at what Phoebe said and what he could see for himself.

 "I ruined her life...I ruined her life... Forgive me, Kathryn...I never meant any of this to happen..."

He felt restless, and at the same time with some purpose to his movements. He looked at his chair. Kathryn bought it for him when he revealed his inclination to relax, recline with a good book.. It was his favourite chair. Kathryn had also made certain that there was one in her quarters on the Crimond. A few times they had made love in his chair. Strange. It was always his chair. Once Kathryn said no one dared sit in it except him...

 He had collected a few books, and his latest was a twentieth century edition of Omar Khayyam's _Rubaiyat_. The small bookshelf he and Kathryn shared looked empty. Kathryn's books were gone and she had so enjoyed reading Austen's "Persuasion". All her belongings were gone. The three drawers she appropriated when she first moved in with him, were empty.

 "There is nothing...not even a memory," he whispered as he settled himself in front of his vid-com.

 He prepared a message for Doctor Paris, who was Kathryn's physician.

  _By this time you know that Kathryn and I have separated. Through no fault of Kathryn, or my Commanding Officer on the Ormskirk or Doctor Sergei Karkoff, I have only just learned of Kathryn's pregnancy._

He wanted to put "my wife's pregnancy" but thought in the circumstances it bore no more meaning.

_I beg that Kathryn be taken care of, but my concern is mostly with her state of mind. I know that I have been made out as a villain in some quarters and I don't blame anyone for that. However, I love Kathryn Janeway and will do so until I am dead. Right now, circumstances are not very favourable for me to make any amends, no matter how hard I try. One indecent act has seen to that. I don't mind telling you this, since I think Kathryn must have told you the same. I trust you, and know that it will be held in your confidence. Our baby is to be named Hannah, which is my mother's name._

  _I hope and pray that Kathryn will have a smooth confinement and that Hannah will be a healthy baby. I ask for no more than that I know you will ensure the baby's good health. I once told Kathryn that our baby girl - once we have one, I was so certain our baby would be a girl - would look like me. Now I can't order that, but it doesn't hurt me to hope like a good Daddy - albeit an absent one - should. My heart is filled with pride, but also with much pain, for I will not be present at Hannah's birth; I will not be holding Kathryn's hand and encourage her to breathe. It pains me a great deal, but I can assure you, Doctor Paris: Kathryn doesn't want me around. In her eyes I have transgressed and now I must pay the price for that transgression, no matter how sorry I am._

_I am sorry. I can't tell you how much._

_I understand Hannah is due in December, near Christmas. Please, will you convey to Kathryn my good wishes for the birth of her baby as well as good wishes for the Season of Goodwill?_

_Yours,_

_Commander Chakotay._

 Chakotay stared with dark eyes at the screen. Then he entered the exact time and date the message had to reach Doctor Paris. When he had done that, he sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. He leaned forward again to prepare another message, but on an impulse he got up and walked to the replicator in the small dining room. For a few seconds he scratched his head, and bit his lower lip. He smiled grimly as he remembered how many times Kathryn had bitten on her lower whenever she concentrated on something. He walked into the second bedroom. They had never used it and it stood empty. When Kathryn had been pregnant with Jaime, they were going to convert the room to a nursery...

 He walked quickly out of the room to the small alcove he used as an office and sat down again.

 "Message to Sergei Karkoff."

 He waited only a minute before Sergei's face appeared on the screen.

 "Comrade! What can I do for you?" Sergei asked jovially.

 "Sergei, get Svetlana on the other vid-com."

 "We have two, Comrade?"

 "You got Anatoly one on his last birthday against everyone's wishes. Now, will you get Svetlana?"

 "Okay...Okay..." Sergei turned in his chair and shouted to Svetlana who carried little Irina on her hips when she appeared in view. Svetlana smiled sweetly at him.

 "What can we do for you, Chakotay?"

 "I have two days to convert my second bedroom into a nursery..."

 "Kathryn's back?" Sergei asked hopefully. It seemed his face knocked into his screen as he pitched forward.

 "No, but I can hope, can't I?"

 "Great!" said Sergei eagerly. "Give us two hours..."

 ***

**Three days later**

 Sergei and Svetlana had been gone hours, but Chakotay still remained standing in the bedroom that was now a nursery. The soft, muted light gave a warm glow to the room, like peace had sifted down on the crib with its pink bedding and frills; kissed Hannah's name that graced the headboard in beautiful cursive strokes; where the light danced playfully as the mobile moved. There were carvings of eagles, and starships hanging on the mobile....

 "It's to remind our baby of our work and our spirit..." he had said to Kathryn then, when they were still expecting their first baby.

 "Science and belief..."

 "Yes..."

 Chakotay looked with pride at the gleaming rocking chair he made. He hadn't slept in two days, though Svetlana and Sergei had gone home every evening. Svetlana had been brilliant. In no time, the room had been painted, the baby furniture had been ordered and arranged, with the chest of drawers filled with baby clothing. Svetlana had been adamant about the rocking chair.

 "Do you want me to order a rocking chair, Comrade?" Sergei asked, ducking at the same time he asked the question.

 "Good that you duck, my brother. You know I'll make that myself."

 "Fine, go ahead."

 So, in the space of two days, the room's spartan appearance changed into a baby room, warm, comforting, ready... Over on the long dresser, he had stacked Flotter and Treevis and other soft toys. In the corner was the bath stand. He looked at the crib again and pictured Hannah lying on her tummy, with her head turned to her side, and her little thumb firmly in her mouth. Chakotay remembered an old Earth song, one Svetlana had sung first for Anatoly, then for Irina.

  _Welcome little stranger,_

_To our world that we_

_welcome little strangers,_

_There's lots of love for you..._

 With a deep, satisfied sigh, Chakotay closed the door and walked to the replicator.

 "It doesn't matter that almost all my credits have been used up," he muttered under his breath. "Now for the last of my credits..."

 He stood in front of the replicator and drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

 "Computer, rice paper, colour off-white."

 At the table he sat down, the paper in front of him and the pen he also replicated, in his hand. He sat a long time completely still, staring absently at the blank paper. Images flitted in his mind. Kathryn sitting on his lap in his big chair. Kathryn lying on their bed on her stomach, her chin propped on her hand as she braced herself on her elbow, watching him through half-closed eyelids. Kathryn mad at him because he didn't pick up after him when she had to use the bathroom. Kathryn's expression when he kissed her madness away.

 Kathryn gasping as she writhed under him...

 "Oh, Kathryn..." he cried softly, giving in to the sobs he had held at bay since Phoebe had threatened to phaser a hole through his body.

  _I love thee with the breath,_  
Smiles, tears, of all my life!---and, if God choose,  
I shall but love thee better after death.

When he could calm down again, Chakotay took up his pen and started writing.

  _"Dear Kathryn..."_

****

  **END CHAPTER 21**

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK THREE: ABYSS

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

**November 2370 - On the USS Ormskirk: Sector 451, near the Demilitarised Zone.**

 Chakotay stared at his father's face on the screen. Kolopak seemed suddenly much older than when Chakotay had last seen him on Dorvan V, the day after the talks with the Tribal Elders. The deep dimples had given way to elongated furrows.

 But it was Kolopak's eyes - always his eyes - that brought home the message of his concern.

 "We have already informed the Federation, Cha-ko-tay," Kolopak spoke. "They have replied, and indicated that their hands are tied."

 "Who said that?"

 "Admirals Hays and Nechayev. They are adamant that we should have left Dorvan V when we had the opportunity to do so. It is clear to them that they've washed their hands off us, Cha-ko-tay. They will not help."

 "But you've said that there are munitions build-up in the DMZ, which is a clear violation of the Federation-Cardassian Treaty."

 "That's what we've told them. Already, a neighbouring planet in our star system has been laid to waste. Cha-ko-tay, we fear we may be next. A few of our people have already left, though most remain, regardless of the infractions we know is occurring in the DMZ - "

 "But surely," Chakotay cut in, "there are patrols by both Cardassian vessels and Starfleet that must ensure no military installations are built anywhere in that area of space."

 "Yes, we know that and that is about all Starfleet is willing to do, Cha-ko-tay."

 "In spite of the fact that they know the Treaty is being violated?"

 "We believe they know about the military operations, and we feel Starfleet's presence in the zone is mere window dressing. Things are happening, Cha-ko-tay. The Cardassians are preparing for war…"

 Chakotay saw his father's worry increase as he spoke. Kolopak would defend his homeworld to the last, and so would most of the tribes on Dorvan V. But with their archaic military apparel, they were no match even for two Cardassian war ships which could wipe out half a continent with one blast from their phaser banks.

 "What about Mama and the children? Tomaso...Winonah?" Chakotay asked.

 "They are my chief concern, Cha-ko-tay...they wish to remain," Kolopak said, a flash of anger and pride in his eyes. "Although I have suggested they leave Dorvan V. Winonah is only five, Cha-ko-tay, and I fear for her safety. I shall speak with Sekaya again. Perhaps you can arrange to let

Kathryn - "

 "Kathryn left me, Father. You know that."

 Kolopak shook his head.

 "And Kathryn is also with child…"

 Chakotay wondered why he should be surprised at his father's intuition. He hadn't told Kolopak that. Kolopak frowned. "She will forgive you, Cha-ko-tay, but only when the time is right and at the right time... It will be time…"

 Chakotay sighed. Why did his father have to be so prophetic when the truth was that Kathryn had already made her decision clear, helped by a vitriolic Phoebe Janeway who was ready to kill him if he so much as looked at Kathryn?

 "I am asking you," Kolopak cut in, returning to his original request, "that you plead on our behalf that Starfleet send us reinforcements or assistance. We need to get our people off Dorvan V, Cha-ko-tay. You were right from the start. The Cardassians have already homed in on Dorvan as a base for a halfway station, to store vast caches of arms. We - we…" Kolopak coughed, but there was a sudden proud gleam in his eyes when he continued. "Young Tomaso has broken into some of their communications. You must inform Starfleet of this, Cha-ko-tay."

 Chakotay closed his eyes. Tomaso was only fifteen, the age he was when he joined the Academy. Tomaso hacked into the Cardassian communications…The kid was already a rebel…

 "We are currently in Sector 451. I will make a plea for help, Father. I hope for all our sakes that Starfleet will send assistance. But, Father, you must also remember this - "

 "I know what you will say, Cha-ko-tay. We have relinquished Federation citizenship for Cardassian rule. They will tell us that that we gave up our rights with the signing of the Treaty. Do they not know that they will be treating us the same as they did our ancestors on Earth? Once we were part of Earth's soil, its blue skies and the wind and the rain."

 Chakotay couldn't deny that. And, his father was right. It was a convenient loophole Starfleet would use not to get embroiled in a war with Cardassia. Despite his father's pleas on behalf of the people of Dorvan V, already the Federation has turned a cold shoulder to the plight of its former colonists. There was a deep, brewing anger in Chakotay at the dismissive manner in which the Federation was handling the very volatile situation. It couldn't care less…

 "They do not care, Cha-ko-tay," his father said as if he read Chakotay's thoughts.

 Chakotay gave another deep sigh. He was on duty again in an hour, but at his next off-duty, he would make contact with Starfleet and confront them - it was the only way he could describe a head to head with Nechayev - with the plight of the colonists on Dorvan V. Then he would see about what to do getting his people, especially his family, off the planet and settle them outside the DMZ, spiritual connection or not.

 "I will be in touch with you, Father, as soon as I have news."

 Kolopak smiled for the first time, but the smile did not reach his eyes as it always did. Still, Chakotay felt again the old thrill of being part of his family again after Kathryn had plagued him about _being the least of men_ and going to his father on his knees. " _Like the prodigal son did, Chakotay. His father forgave him and welcomed him back into his heart without condition. He didn't ask questions about why, or where his son was; he just welcomed him with open arms... Your father will too, just you see..."_ Kathryn's voice resonated in his heart as he heard her words of more than a year ago. Now he faced a man, his father, whom he loved; he was humbled by the fact that Kolopak had been unswervingly loyal to him, had loved him unreservedly and waived all the harsh words that had ever been spoken between them when he was a rebellious teenager and a young Academy cadet who was embarrassed by having a father who wore a strange tattoo and who shunned technology.

 Yes, he loved Kolopak. Kolopak had welcomed him, his first born son, into his heart as if he had never been away for fifteen years. Chakotay touched the screen in acknowledgement of his father's incredibly generous gift. Kolopak's eyes which had been so worried earlier, shone with pride.

 "Thank you, my son."

 When communication closed, Chakotay still stared reflectively for a very long time at the blue Federation insignia. He touched the monitor again and traced the outline of the white laurel wreath.

 Peace...

_"You are letting my people down. They asked for help, and what do you tell them? You're on your own; fight your own battles…"_

When Chakotay rose from the chair to leave for the bridge, he murmured an anguished little cry:

_"These are my people…"_

***

"She is in good health, Chakotay," Sergei told his friend later that evening as they made their way to the observation lounge on the Ormskirk.

"There is something you're not telling me?" Chakotay asked, pausing in his tracks and forcing Sergei to stop too.

"She has been depressed, according to Doctor Paris, but now seems to have rallied a little." Sergei stood hands behind his back.

"She did?"

"Especially after - " Chakotay saw how Sergei's face became flushed. The doctor was hiding something, but not for long.

"After..." Chakotay coaxed.

"You invited her to move back into your home."

"I did?" Chakotay's face broke into a reluctant grin. He hadn't been feeling too good about his father's last communication, and Phoebe's outburst still rang in his ears. The nursery they had prepared for the baby had filled him with renewed hope.

"I...er...went to Indiana, to see Kathryn."

"Sergei!"

"Look, Chak, I know I promised not to tell Kathryn about Sedeka and the truth about what happened. I didn't, you know. But, comrade, she looked real glad to see me, as if she knew I'd be bringing news of you..."

"You gonna stand there and gloat till I punch you, friend?"

"So I gave her your message...er...the one you were always intending to give: Kathryn is welcome to return to your home. You know that she might need to be in her own place with the baby, and that no matter what happened between you, you still care very deeply about her and will always think about her and Hannah..."

"I could have said that myself - " Chakotay started, then clamped his mouth shut. When did he have any opportunity to do that? When he tried, Phoebe was ready to phaser a hole through him. He missed Kathryn; his heart burned like hellfire every time he pictured her, swollen with child. Sergei's eyes softened.

"I know you could have, Chakotay. Kathryn, though, looked pleased. I could see some of the dark clouds moving away. She - "

"She what, Sergei?"

"She touched her belly, very protectively, and murmured the baby's name. Hannah..."

Chakotay nodded, the news about Kathryn and Hannah lifting some of the deep gloom that settled in him since his communication with Earth and his father. He had asked Sergei to keep him updated on Kathryn's progress. He felt embarrassed that he had to ask his friend to keep an eye on Kathryn. When he had seen Kathryn from the distance he had been watching, even then he could see how detached Kathryn had been.

"Then I'm glad. When she - she had the first miscarriage, it was very difficult for her, you understand? I'd not like anything to happen now. And you say she's still taking classes at the Academy?"

Sergei stopped in his tracks again. His hair looked like he had been standing in the wind for hours. His eyes twinkled.

"Didn't I tell you that she had been forced to stop at seven months? Apparently Dr Paris recommended she do so."

"And Kathryn went out fighting that decision tooth and nail..." Chakotay said reflectively, knowing how Kathryn would be headstrong and not do what the doctor said just because the doctor said it.

"Actually... Kathryn welcomed it," Sergei replied as they entered the lounge and walked over to the bar counter where Lieutenant Tongwat asked: "And what can I concoct for you today, gentlemen?"

"That's a first," Chakotay responded to Sergei's statement, looking surprised.

"What is?" the barman asked. It was Tongwat, who was an engineer, doubled up as medical officer and sometimes barman and saver of lives.

"Nothing that you should know, Tongwat," Sergei replied. "Raktajino for me. Commander Chakotay will have..." Sergei looked at Chakotay who paled slightly when Tongwat used the word 'concocted'. It reminded him of Sedeka.

"I'll have a celery drink."

"Coming up! Gentlemen, please seat yourself. I'll bring your drinks to you." Tongwat's blue face creased into smiles.

"Thank you," both men responded before they walked over to a far corner where they seated themselves at a table they always used.

"Beats sitting in my quarters. I need that drink," Chakotay said as he looked at Sergei.

"And I need my wife," Sergei sighed. "I want to get home, comrade. Don't you?"

Chakotay sensed the yearning in Sergei's words.

"Of course I need Kathryn." he added and Sergei gave a sympathetic click.

Chakotay sank into his own thoughts again. He missed Kathryn... Kathryn was going to give birth next month. He won't be there. He won't see his baby. He won't know what Hannah will look like just seconds after being born, or hours after being cleaned up and lying snugly in her mother's arms. He'll not see Hannah's mouth locking greedily on a nipple. He'll not see his daughter grow up, take her first steps, or give her first smile...

He wondered what Kathryn was doing right now. He had been disturbed at what Phoebe pointed out to him, for he had seen it himself. Kathryn was not connecting to their baby. It was so unlike her, so totally uncharacteristic. Sergei seemed to think she was improving. Perhaps it was because Kathryn saw the nursery...Then she would also have read his letter. It had taken him several tries and swiping some of Kathryn's credits to replicate four more sheets of rice paper before he could finally relax and find the right words. Yeah, he missed her. But there were other, perhaps more pressing problems he had to contend with and he gave a scowl as he thought of Hays' face when he had looked at the Admiral and tried to plead the case of the colonists.

"Hey..." Sergei's voice broke into his meandering.

"Sorry."

"So, you're going to tell me what Starfleet said? Anything that is different from what they told your father?"

He had not minded telling Sergei. After all, the Ormskirk also had to do duty patrol along the Demilitarised Zone, and everyone on board knew that the Cardassians were not playing games on unprotected homeworlds where they forcibly subjugated the inhabitants.

"We're banging our heads against a wall, Sergei," Chakotay told his friend. They paused their conversation when their drinks arrived and Tongwat, who once saved Chakotay's life as he swore the Commander himself said, left without saying another word. Chakotay shrugged. He'd make it up sometime when he was in a better frame of mind.

"You're preoccupied, Chak. What did they say?"

"Why didn't I remain on Dorvan V and ensured that my people got off the planet."

Sergei paled at Chakotay's words. The inference of Starfleet cut sharply.

"I'm sorry, my brother. You couldn't tell them the truth..."

"Nechayev and that consort Hays were not very complimentary. We gave up our citizenship; we relinquished our rights for protection; we should have left when the time was right, and they have their hands full protecting those colonists of other homeworlds who left for other safe havens. We made our bed. Ours is not the first complaint to Starfleet, by the way..."

"Chakotay, I'm certain the Federation is not that insensitive to your plight?"

"Perhaps not. Who the hell knows? Operations at Headquarters appear to be controlled by Nechayev and Hays. I haven't been on my best behaviour when they reiterated the Federation's policy regarding the Treaty."

"There's going to be war."

"I know. Told them that too. I was told I must see what I can do myself. They're not sending assistance, since the Federation would be violating the terms of the Treaty."

"Jeez, Chakotay."

"Aye, Doctor," Chakotay said morosely as he sipped his celery juice. He grimaced. Kathryn hated it. Kathryn... He wondered if she still drank -

"And Dalene has said that Kathryn's been warned off coffee."

"Are you a prophet?"

When Sergei didn't reply, Chakotay thought about his request to Starfleet Command. Hardly had he come off duty after conversing with his father, when he hurried to his office to place a subspace message to Admiral Hays. The man had looked stern, uncompromising as he addressed Chakotay. No, they couldn't accede to such a request as the colonists on Dorvan V had refused to leave, and gave up their citizenship. Chakotay could see from the Admiral's expression that Hays had not been too happy that a simple order given to Jean-Luc Picard to get the people off the planet had not been followed, something Chakotay could clearly see from the Admiral's expression was an outrage. Instead, Picard had bargained along diplomatic lines, and accepted the best arrangement, even if he didn't like the fact that the colonists would potentially lose all rights to be protected.

What was Hays thinking? That the people on Dorvan V would leave at the drop of a hat, even if that hat sat on the head of the Captain of the Enterprise? Picard had done his best, but he wasn't going to injure a single colonist just to follow such a machiavellian order given by a man who himself thought that he was the sole representative of the Federation. It was a question of pride, Chakotay thought; a political game in which admirals jockeyed for positions higher up - whatever the hell that meant in Starfleet Command - regardless of those who lay in the wake of their journey up.

It was, Chakotay decided, all about power.

It bode ill for his people. The Admiral's voice rang in his ears: "Your people lost the right to that protection."

Now, he worried. His father was not getting younger. Since the talks in May, he had become older, his face more gaunt with a perpetual frown. Chakotay pictured his quiet mother who had so much inherent grace, something his sister inherited. They were at risk. Everyone on Dorvan V was at risk.

He didn't want to pursue any thought of Sedeka and what she had done to him. He had been a fool to be taken in by her. Still, he had given the whole incident considerable thought and wondered whether he could have avoided what subsequently happened. His fortunes after that day had spiralled downwards and they were still going down. He had cheated on his wife, his wife was pregnant, and she didn't want to see him again. It left him with half a life.

Half a life.

He felt how his insides boiled. He was angry. Angry that Kathryn was no longer part of his life, angry that he was never going to see his little girl, and angry that Starfleet had taken such an uncompromising stance against the colonists.

He didn't realise just how hard he gripped the stem of his glance until the green liquid spilled over his hand and shards of the glass scattered on the table.

"That's one angry warrior..." said Sergei as they watched Tongwat rush to their table to clean up the mess.

"My apology," Chakotay muttered as he rose from his chair.

"Chakotay..." Sergei's voice was strong and insistent.

"Yeah?"

"No matter what happens, I'll do everything I can to help..."

Chakotay looked at his friend, then nodded. He flexed his fingers and smiling grimly, said: "Nothing that the nurse in sick bay can't fix. You stay here, Sergei. Enjoy the rest of the evening."

Then Chakotay walked quickly out of the observation lounge, heading for his quarters on deck four. He had to get away. Where? He felt the air squeeze out of his lungs and at the entrance to his quarters, he gripped at his chest as he murmured Kathryn's name.

The feeling of pending doom persisted, and none of the _rubaiyats_ he read could sink in. They lost meaning, the words became twisted metal and debris and broken bodies. If he pulled his eyes away from the words, then he could hear cries - the children's cries rising above those of their elders.

Still, when he could fix on one rubaiyat, Chakotay felt his heart turn cold.

_"The moving finger writes; and having writ,_

_moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit_

_shall lure it back to cancel half a line,_

_Nor all thy Tears wash out a word of it..."_

***

Sergei Karkoff watched as Chakotay strode out of the observation lounge and he shook his head. Kathryn had been surprised when he and Svetlana visited Indiana immediately after leaving Chakotay in San Francisco.

Her eyes had a tired look about them, and he knew it had nothing to do with her pregnancy. He felt bound by an oath he made Chakotay and in the last number of weeks he felt guilty that it could have made a difference had he said anything about Sedeka, or shown Kathryn the proof.

Still, Kathryn had been happy to see them. He sensed Kathryn was hungry to see anyone who knew Chakotay well, as her eyes had an eager shine in them when he mentioned Chakotay's name. She tried to mask it quickly, but it was too late. She asked about Anatoly and Irina, who was her godchild, asked after their own health and well-being. There remained a question in her eyes all the time she spoke as she invited them into the lounge of the farmhouse.

"Chakotay - "

Her head swung quickly so that she could face them.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Uhm...I - we..." he couldn't quite say what Chakotay said because Chakotay didn't say anything. He was taking matters into his own hands. But during the two days he and Svetlana and Chakotay turned the room into a nursery, the desire had been there, in Chakotay's eyes. The very fact that they were furnishing a baby room was an indication of that desire. Chakotay had never said it in so many words, but it was his yearning that Kathryn stay in their home. Wherever Chakotay found himself in deep space, he would know at least that Kathryn was safe, that she used their home as her base.

So, talking it over with Svetlana who had some of Dalene Buccholtz' nosy and naughty streak, they decided to tell Kathryn it was what Chakotay asked. But he bumbled. Svetlana saved the moment.

"Kathryn, Chakotay has refurnished - with a little bit of help from his friends - the second bedroom into a nursery..." Svetlana paused, waiting for her words to sink in. Sergei felt proud of Svetlana. She was the one for all the dramatics. Reading all those holo-love stories gave her that sense of high drama. Svetlana was beaming.

"I - " Kathryn's surprise was obvious. She stared at the flames in the hearth, and a smile graced her features, softening the worried, drawn look she had. She touched Svetlana's hand as she turned to face them. "I hadn't prepared anything..." she admitted. Svetlana had shown no surprise, simply carried on as if the admission didn't shock her.

"He insisted on building the crib and rocking chair himself..."

Kathryn smiled.

"He would do that. He used to say he doesn't sculpt half as well as Grey Eagle, but he was lying..."

"Chakotay is way too modest," Svetlana replied.

Kathryn gave them a quirky smile. Svetlana rolled on beautifully.

"Anyway, there's this beautiful nursery and it be a shame not to use it - "

"I - you know Chakotay and I..." Kathryn's voice trailed away, but she didn't avert her gaze.

"It's all he asks, Kathryn, that you as least make use of his home. He - he won't bother you, if that's what you're thinking..."

But Kathryn's face lit up again and Sergei had begun to wonder about his oath in those moments. If Kathryn could live in the home she and Chakotay shared, who knows? He knew at some point he was going to tell her, but now, at this moment? Chakotay was knee-deep worrying about his parents and family on Dorvan V. He had to settle that matter first...

"I..." there was a heavy pause again before Kathryn sighed and continued. "I'd like to use it."

"Then I'm very happy. I'm sure Chakotay will be happy. He will be more than happy, Kathryn. In fact we will all be very -" He had just managed not to cry out when Svetlana kicked his shin neat and hard.

"There's everything, Kathryn. You don't need to worry at all! Sergei painted the room, and he didn't miss a spot!"

They didn't stay too long after that. It had been evening and Kathryn had finally given in to the tiredness. When they departed in their flitter, Svetlana had given him a hard hug and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

"That's for not telling."

"Telling what?"

"She'll forgive him, Sergei, and then nothing else will matter, not even the truth..."

He had shaken his head and they remained quiet, thoughtful, for the rest of their journey home.

Sergei rose from the table, realising with a pang that he didn't finish the raktajino. Chakotay had so much on his plate. So much. He worried about his friend. Something was happening on Dorvan V, and they had their hands tied. They couldn't go barging in and demand the colonists leave.

Still, it would be a useful suggestion to make to Roger Petranoff that the Ormskirk rendezvous in Sector 450, closer to the Demilitarised Zone.

Yes, that might be a very good idea...

******

**A week later.**

The insistent beep of his commbadge woke Chakotay from a restless slumber in which he thought the beeping was part of his dream. He groaned as he took his commbadge and activated it.

"Medical Bay to Commander Chakotay."

He rose sluggishly when he heard Sergei's voice.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Doc?" Chakotay asked irritably. He had gone to sleep in the early hours of the morning and now it seemed, it was still early hours of the morning.

"0500.You are to come to sick bay, Chakotay. It is urgent."

By the time Chakotay heard Sergei's voice clearly, he was already up and in the process of dressing. He wasn't going to ask: why the sickbay when he wasn't sick?

"Five minutes, Sergei. Chakotay out."

He had given himself only time to splash his face, trim down his uniform and run his fingers through his hair before he hurried to sick bay, all alarm bells going off in his head. Something was up. Sergei wouldn't call him to sick bay for nothing. Sergei wouldn't wake him from his sleep on a whim. They did that in their Academy days. But those days were gone. The running of a starship meant instant alert and little time to fool around. Sergei's voice sounded…gruff, like he wanted to cry. Chakotay had never known Sergei to cry, yet his friend sounded like that. Perhaps something had happened to Kathryn. Kathryn! His feet carried him faster, his heart pounding at the thought that something may have happened to Kathryn.

There had been no time to ask, and asking while on his way to sick bay was not in good spirit, not while there were the odd crewmen about who stalked the corridors during gamma shift. Chakotay knew something seriously was up and Sergei's very tone suggested that he wait till he got to sick bay, which was about during the next few seconds.

The doors opened as he touched them.

"Sergei, what is it?" Chakotay asked without preamble, surprised to see Roger Petranoff there as well. Chakotay turned ice-cold seeing their sombre expressions. Roger Petranoff - more Captainly than Chakotay had ever seen him. Sergei…always ebullient, always joking - his comrade…looking like the earth had opened beneath him.

Sergei looked at Roger Petranoff.

"Captain?"

"Go ahead, Doctor."

"Will you tell me why I've been called to sick bay at this hour?" Chakotay asked, an edge to his voice. An icy hand clamped around his heart in a vice grip. Something must have happened. "Kathryn?"

Sergei expelled a deep breath. His hand touched Chakotay's arm. Chakotay stiffened.

"Come on, Sergei!"

Sergei closed his eyes and Chakotay saw the tenseness in his facial muscles, how Sergei battled to be as calm as he could. Chakotay felt a sudden pounding in his ears, and Sergei's words sounded far away, muted almost.

"There has been an attack on Dorvan V, Chakotay."

Dorvan...Dorvan V. Not Kathryn after all. Worse...

Worse. His eyes closed and he clenched his fists, the effort to speak hurting his throat. It felt his head was swelling and inside his head swirled every child, every man and woman, reaching out to him in helpless supplication as they screamed.

The voices screamed...screamed...

"Damage?" he asked. He had not been aware that his lips moved.

There was a deathly silence as Chakotay asked the question. They were quiet. Too quiet, too long. "Damage?" he repeated. Silence. Chakotay grabbed Sergei's shoulders. "Dammit, tell me!"

Roger Petranoff stepped forward. Chakotay let go of Sergei and jerked to attention.

"There are no survivors, as far as we know. The last communication to this vessel came from a young boy who said his name was Tomaso. You're his uncle…" Chakotay looked from one to the other, his eyes already wild as the reality sank in. "I believe the Ormskirk is the first Federation vessel to receive the news..." Chakotay turned to the doctor.

"S-Sergei?"

Chakotay felt the floor giving under him as his legs buckled. Still, he remained on his feet. Something was happening to him. The bulkheads of the sick bay started spinning, round and round until Sergei and Roger's faces began to merge, then split, then merge again as Chakotay tried to focus. He still managed to ask:

"My - my mother…my father?"

When the spinning continued and two heads nodded in affirmation, it felt to Chakotay as if his head were falling off his body.

Or did their heads fell of their bodies? He couldn't know. He floated off and somewhere a hand touched his neck. Chakotay rocked to attention again, tried to focus and push Sergei's hand away with frantic movements.

"No!" he screamed. "Don't touch me! Not with that thing! Leave me clear, Sergei. Leave my head! Serge - " For a few moments he fought Sergei, not wanting to be sedated. He sank down...down...

"Chakotay, listen." It was Sergei's voice. Why was Sergei's face bent over him? Was he lying on the biobed? "We're leaving for Dorvan V. We have clearance to inspect the planet and do what we can to - "

He wasn't listening to Sergei. He was lying on a biobed. He was fighting. Did they sedate him? Why? He could take it, couldn't he? He needed control, didn't he? He could take it.

He could...not stand the look in Sergei's eyes. It said 'yes' to all his questions he didn't ask.

Pity. Compassion, even...anger.

"They're gone…"

"Then we'll assess the damage," Sergei continued. "See if there aren't any surv - "

"Gone, Sergei. Those bastard Cardassians made good on their word."

"You're not rational, right now, Chakotay," Roger Petranoff said. "Lie still."

That moment Chakotay flew off the bed again and grabbed Sergei.

"They killed my people…you hear me? Killed them in cold blood…in cold blood…c-cold blood…" Chakotay's hysteria was rising. "Bastards! He saw flashes of a smiling father, a mother whose aching muscles he massaged, little Winonah smiling up at him, proud she could do the nine times table like Kathryn taught her.... Tomaso...Tomaso...Tomaso... Barely out of his teens, prospective Academy cadet.

Kolopak who said _: "Welcome home, my son..._

_I like the corn the way your mother roasts them, Chakotay..._

_Uncle Chakotay, Aunt Kathryn taught me my tables..._

_Can I start at the Academy at fifteen, Uncle?_

_I want Chakotay to massage my neck muscles._

_I will not let our beliefs be a barrier to our daughter's progress...Sekaya proudly speaking to Kathryn._

_Kohana. Miguel. Tomaso...everyone gone..._

"They killed my people...killed them...k-killed - "

Chakotay started shaking Sergei and when the Captain nodded and held Chakotay down, Sergei finally managed to jab the hypospray in Chakotay's neck.

Sergei looked at Roger Petranoff and shook his head.

"Roger, tell me of any person you know to whom in a matter of months so many things happened and he still manages to walk, keeping everything bottled, in here?" Sergei beat at his chest. "You know any man who is the unluckiest person in the universe? You know who gets picked every time when a calamity strikes? This man…" Sergei pointed clumsily at Chakotay. He took in a deep breath to calm himself. "His wife left him, you know. Next month their baby will be born and he'll not be there. You know the hungry look in a strong man's eyes when you tell him how Kathryn's pregnancy is progressing? You want to answer a thousand questions a strong man asks, that he wants to know about his wife's well-being during this time?" He looked with compassion at his friend, then looked at Roger Petranoff.

"I know what you mean, Sergei. You're wondering how much more Commander Chakotay can take, aren't you?"

When Sergei nodded, closing the dome over the distraught First Officer of the Ormskirk., Roger Petranoff spoke again.

"I fear we're going to lose him, Doctor," Roger said soberly.

When Sergei frowned, Roger spoke again.

"Commander Chakotay is to be offered a vessel - "

"He's being promoted to Captain?"

"He doesn't know yet. When we return to Earth, he'll see Admirals Paris and Ponsonby. My guess is in the circumstances, Commander Chakotay will refuse the commission."

"There's more, isn't there, Roger? It was a good call to inform him here in sick bay where we could be on hand. But when he wakes up, he'll wake up to the same reality."

Sergei was on the point of telling Roger about the rare hallucinogen a Cardassian woman used to disable Chakotay, then he held his tongue. The fewer people knew, the better. It was why Chakotay hadn't wanted to be sedated. He wanted to be alive, with his pain the reality, than imagining something that turned out to be horribly, devastatingly real. Being sedated meant he wasn't in control of his faculties. His reality when he woke up... The entire population of colonists on Dorvan V being dead. Not a member of Chakotay's family alive…

No connection. No relations.

"Yes," Roger sighed, standing with his hands on his hips. "The Federation has only given the Ormskirk clearance to assess the damage and do whatever we can to help clear up."

"It's a bit late for the little the Federation is offering, Captain. Commander Chakotay made representation a week ago, warning Starfleet Command of the pending attacks on unprotected homeworlds. They brushed him off with the old story: The people of Dorvan V gave up their right to be protected. The Federation was not going to stick its neck out, Captain. Chakotay was understandably infuriated by the stance the Federation took."

While he spoke Sergei could see the surprise on Roger's face.

"Yes, Chakotay's father, Kolopak, first requested help on behalf of the colonists, and then he asked Chakotay to plead on their behalf. Those pleas were turned down…"

Sergei allowed the words to sink in and Captain Roger Petranoff shook his head.

"Did you know this young boy who communicated with us?"

"Chakotay spoke of him often, saying the boy wanted to join the Academy. He was only fifteen, Roger. A boy."

Roger drew in his breath.

"Some of us are forced to grow up more quickly than others, Doctor."

"And some of us get to be dealt a cruel set of cards, time after time."

**

Sergei Karkoff thought that he would remember for the rest of his life the scene that met him on Dorvan V two days later. After traveling at high warp and dealing with a demented Chakotay who wanted to be transported at long range to the planet, they had finally arrived and received clearance from a Cardassian gul to enter the orbit of Dorvan V. Already, from 20 000 metres, they could see the rising smoke especially on the planet's southern continent where most of the colonists settled. Sergei had been on the bridge and kept a constant eye on Chakotay, whose expression had remained drawn and reflective in the last hours, as if he finally accepted that the carnage on his family's homeworld did take place.

He had known Chakotay for twenty years, although he was almost three years Chakotay's senior. He had been an eighteen year old first year cadet in the medical sciences while Chakotay started out as a fifteen year old prodigy in military science and strategy. Somehow, the reticent, sometimes sullen looking cadet warmed to him during one of their joint classes and from that time they had never looked back, ensuring that both always got assigned to the same vessels. Sergei gave an inward sigh. He had fallen in love with the woman Chakotay had been dating and Chakotay, bless him, had become aware and gently pushed Svetlana in his direction. From Dalene's side, she had done the same, although she had never seen Chakotay or knew much of him.

They had done so many things together, and the faith they had in one another allowed for sharing of confidences Chakotay would never share with anyone. In the last two years that changed a little as Chakotay became more and more attached to Kathryn Janeway and the old confidences they once shared, though not gone, became the gift he now gave to Kathryn Janeway. Sergei didn't mind that, since they always talked. The events of the last few months had been the most traumatic for Chakotay, and, Sergei believed, only he and Kathryn Janeway knew most of what happened, what caused the rift in what he could swear was a great love between his best friend and a Starfleet captain.

The away team comprised of Chakotay, Lieutenant Tongwat, and six members of the medical staff.

They beamed down near the shuttle launching platforms just outside the village in which Chakotay's family lived. The stench of death hung in the air, heavy, cloying. In the distance Sergei could still see the smoke, although the attacks had taken place three days ago. Chakotay walked ahead, his scientific tricorder flashing continuously as they searched for signs of life.

"The number of inhabitants total seven thousand," Sergei said to the rest of the team. Chakotay had looked up sharply, then stalked away from them

"There must be a few still alive. Our job is to find them," he said hopefully as they walked. In the distance they could see the first of the abodes of the pueblo, smoke still rising from some of them.

"Cardassian phaser banks devastated most buildings, even from outside the planet's atmosphere," Tongwat said. What kind of war is this?"

"Total war. They meant to destroy everything completely, it looks like."

"Come on!" Chakotay shouted as his face contorted with impatience and fury.

Sergei worried. They haven't found any bodies yet, and he wanted to be near Chakotay when he reached his parents' home.

"Doctor, there are prints of Cardassian war boots around here," Tongwat said to him.

"It means they - "

"Say it, Sergei," Chakotay swerved round to face them. "Come on, say it! They came to finish off what they couldn't from space..."

A few Cardassian soldiers could be seen patrolling, but the away mission was left alone. The team carried medical bags, and Sergei knew that at least from a medical emergency perspective, they would be left alone. The Cardassians were morose, lounging rather than looking upright and ready for arms. Sergei shrugged. What arms? They already destroyed this world. Around them there were fires, debris, and the first human body.

Tongwat rushed forward.

"Commander!"

Chakotay rushed to Tongwat as he approached what had been the doorway and front of the abode. Chakotay turned the body over, a stiff legacy of his death three days ago.

  
"I know him," said Chakotay heavily. "His name was Almana, a father of five young boys... Check under the rubble."

While Tongwat and the others searched, Chakotay moved towards where he knew his parents' home had to be. Sergei kept on his heels, not letting Chakotay out of his sight. Chakotay's jaw already twitched without stopping. His eyes had been flinty, but cold.

Angry.

When Sergei reached him and touched his shoulder, Chakotay jerked away and kept on, holding his tricorder as if his life depended on it.

"Here..." he said as he approached the abode of his parents. When he looked up, for he had been looking down on the readings on the tricorder, he clipped the instrument to his waist and ran forward. Surprised to find most of the abode still standing, he rushed inside.

"Chakotay, wait. Let me go in with you. Don't go in..."

"It's my parents, Sergei, dammit! Stay there!"

"And I'm a doctor, Chak. I'm doing my job!" he shouted. Chakotay's eyes warred furiously as he considered the split-second option.

"Stay there," he said resolutely.

Then Sergei watched as Chakotay vanished into the house.

He waited.

Waited.

Then the scream filled the air. Long and howling, like an injured wolf, the sound echoed around him. When the others ran towards them, Sergei waved them away and indicated they should investigate other streets, other homes for signs of life. They all looked strangely at him, then their eyes filled with compassion. Sergei sighed. This was the hardest part of their work. Finding survivors where he thought they'd find nothing. But who knows? The crew nodded solemnly and continued searching. Where they found bodies, they were brought outside and covered with what covering they could find among the debris. The bodies were in various stages of decomposition, an indication that some of them may have died only hours ago, and others three days.

Minutes later Chakotay came outside carrying a body. He covered her with a dusty blanket. The sun beat down on his face, smudged with dust. He walked up straight, holding the body close to him.

When Chakotay reached him, he sank to his knees, still holding the body. He raised his face to Sergei. Chakotay didn't speak. His lips moved, as if in a silent prayer. Then the wheezing started. Open mouthed, Chakotay drew in and expelled breath as he held the body. Somehow the blanket fell away from her face and Sergei forced himself not to grimace at the sight.

He reached down to take Chakotay's mother from his arms, but Chakotay held the decomposing body closer to him, burying his face against the dead woman. Then he gave a few raw sobs that tore from his heart. Sergei stood back and waited for Chakotay. Finally, when the sobbing subsided, Chakotay put the body down gently and pulled the blanket over his mother's face. Still on his knees, he looked at Sergei.

"They raped her, Sergei. I found traces of - of seven different Cardassian DNAs on her body. They - they did not let her go with dignity, Sergei..." Sergei bent down and gripped Chakotay's shoulder, mindless of the stench of death around them. "No dignity..."

"We'll bury her, Chakotay. We'll bury, lay her to rest as a final token of your respect. There will be dignity. I swear it."

Chakotay looked at him very long, then he nodded wordlessly.

"Come, we have go to through the village."

Chakotay rose stiffly to his feet, looked one last time at his mother, then nodded again. They searched every house, and wherever they found bodies, they brought them out, to the street, and lay them in rows. There were women - old women, young women and children who... Sergei sighed. All bore the signs that they had been raped. They found DNA traces of various Cardassians on one body, as in the case of Chakotay's mother.

Chakotay looked at Sergei with hollow eyes. There were no tears, just a croaky, empty sound of the voice

"My sister...Sekaya..."

"Jeez, Chakotay..."

A Cardassian who stood watching them, laughed.

"You crazy bastard!" shouted Chakotay and started towards him. "I'll kill you!"

It was only Tongwat who was with them, and Sergei who held Chakotay back. Chakotay was breathing hard; and all he wanted to do was run in and stick a dagger through the Cardassian's heart. He broke free of them, but both ran forward and pulled the blindingly angry Chakotay back just as the Cardassian edged forward with his phaser.

"Don't, Commander. We need you alive, okay?" Sergei calmed him. Chakotay turned on him, then slowly he pulled himself together, the hollow look back in his eyes, the flat croaky voice also returning.

"My father... We haven't found him yet, Sergei. He would never leave my mother. If her life were threatened, he would fight. He would fight. I know he would."

"We'll find him, Chakotay," Sergei replied resolutely. "We'll find him and bury him side by side with your mother."

"You know their ritual..."

"I know..." he said gruffly, trying to work away the lump in his throat. Chakotay had been quiet, reserved as they found more bodies and brought them out of the houses, digging at times under the rubble to pull them out.

Sergei had ordered a beam down of teams of most of the Ormskirk's crew to work on other, smaller villages.

"And Captain, leave only a skeleton crew on board, but let Counsellor Ulyat beam down."

"Affirmative, Doctor."

They were alerted when one of the medical officers hailed them as they proceeded in the direction of a building from which smoke still rose.

"Commander! There are signs of life coming from that building," shouted Tongwat.

"The _Habak!_ "

Chakotay was already running towards the _Habak_ , with Sergei hot on his heels. If someone were alive in this carnage... They ignored the sole Cardassian who patrolled that part of the pueblo. The soldier grinned as if he knew they were on a fool's errand.

But even the faintest sign was something. Even the faintest sign...

***

Chakotay reached the Habak first, then Sergei. Sergei turned to the others and ordered them to wait. The structure had two floors, or rather, what he could call a mezzanine floor which all but collapsed on the lower level.

"They're right," Chakotay breathed, for the first time showing animation in his face.

"Comrade, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Sergei asked as they began frantically removing debris. Chakotay's hands were raw, but he lifted large chunks of the structure as if it weighed nothing. He was gasping as he paused to turn to Sergei who had taken out his medical tricorder. "The reading is very faint, Chakotay. Very faint."

"If not by my mother's side, they surprised my father here. He would be here, Sergei, alive...alive..."

Sergei turned to the others and hailed the Ormskirk. Chakotay only vaguely heard Sergei request the crew to prepare for the mass burials. He kept digging, wheezing as he gripped the tricorder again and the beep sounded louder. He was close...close...

Finally he reached a pocket of air in the rubble. With renewed energy he pulled away at the flat stones until he could see the figure. There was a soft groan.

"Father..."

Sergei moved forward quickly and moved the scanner over the injured man. He said nothing, just clipped the tricorder to his waist again and helped Chakotay lift his father out of the debris.

A minute later Chakotay cradled Kolopak in his arms while Sergei scanned him.

Kolopak's eyes glazed with pain.

"Father..."

Chakotay, who breathed a sigh of relief, soon realised that the relief would be short lived. It was clear to him that no amount of medicine, or the finest herbs of Dorvan V could save the old man. Kolopak was dying. He saw that in the way Sergei shook his head. His was appalled at his father's condition.

"Every bone in his body appears broken, Chakotay, with severe lacerations on his stomach and thighs...your father must have crawled all the way here..."

Chakotay didn't hear Sergei. He was looking at Kolopak, whose eyes briefly rallied as he heard Chakotay's voice.

"They - they took your mother, Cha - - ko - - táy..."

"I know, Father. I found her - "

"Violated her..."

"I know..."

"They - they f-forced...me...to watch... Then they killed her"

Chakotay felt his heart contract. For a fleeting moment he saw Kathryn's face as she stood in the doorway of his bedroom and watched him with Sedeka. The anger boiled inside him. He didn't want to scream. Kolopak needed to see him calm, to take charge. But all the time he was bleeding inside...bleeding...

"I tried to stop them...tried to fight them... They dragged me into the street...kicked me...they shot me...left me to die... "

"We'll get you to our medical bay, Father. Sergei will heal your wounds - "

"I am dying, son. Leave me here...with your mother... The women..." Kolopak's breathing was erratic, there was a gurgling sound in his chest. Chakotay, distraught, looked back where two of the medical officers were still moving about, pulling bodies from the rubble.

"Father, I must get you to safety..."

"I will die here, my son." Kolopak's eyes rested on him. There was no pleading, no anger, just a quiet knowledge that the air of Dorvan V would receive him. Kolopak gave a shudder .

"Father!"

"The Sky Spirits...didn't you know they are here, and I see Hannah with them? That is where I want to be, Cha-ko-tay."

"Sergei, we must get him to sick bay!" Chakotay said in an urgent voice. But the dying Kolopak's hand came up once, then slumped again as he waved Sergei away.

"It is finished, Cha-ko-táy. Let me die here, where the sand and the sky and the air and the water will be my part..."

"Father...?

"Do you not know, Cha-ko-tay?"

"What, Father?"

"Alive, I am...dead...without....my...Hannah..."

Chakotay hauled his father closer to him, and like with his mother's decomposing body, rocked his father in his arms. There were no tears this time, no hard sobbing, just an empty, bottomless gasping and waiting. Overhead, the sky turned grey with smoke, and Chakotay heard them, the eagles flying overhead, calling in distress. The sound bore into his brain, and his heart became host to the terrible noise of the eagles. On and on that sound continued.

Still, Chakotay kept rocking Kolopak.

Then the sound of the eagles stopped.

Everything became quiet. There was a stillness in the air, a hallowed stillness that bowed to the power of the sky spirits.

_One day, Cha-ko-tay, you will embrace your heritage._

_My son, love your wife with the very air that you breathe. Do you feel it? That is how my Hannah is to me._

_I am proud of you, my son..._

Chakotay heard these words from the mists of the past. He looked down at his father.

Kolopak was no more.

***** 

The next day the crew of the Ormskirk oversaw the last of the burial rituals of the colonists of Dorvan V.

Chakotay stood impassive in front of the pyre on which his family rested. They found Tomaso at the communications centre. He had been beheaded. Chakotay flinched. It was the only sign of emotion. Then he raised his phaser slowly and pressed.

Sergei's hand was on his shoulder all the time they watched the pyre burn. When it was over, he turned to Sergei and nodded solemnly. Sergei hit his commbadge.

"Karkoff to Ormskirk. Two to beam up..."

*

Captain Roger Petranoff entered into his logs that they found the planet destroyed, and all its inhabitants dead.

There was not a single survivor.

There was only one body unaccounted for.

Sergei Karkoff looked at Chakotay in disbelief.

"I found my sister and her husband, Sergei. I couldn't find their little girl anywhere. She wore a locket I had given her on my last visit. There is no trace of it. Winonah would not have removed it, I am dead certain."

"The Cardassians would have."

"It's possible. Sekaya...she would have done everything to protect her little girl, Sergei. Winonah must have been forcibly removed from her..."

"We've run as many scans as we could, Chakotay. You're certain?"

"Yes. Winonah is gone."

"A Cardassian must have taken her. A kind Cardassian - "

Chakotay's face turned livid at Sergei's suggestion. Sergei wanted to avoid looking at him. He knew he was right. Many Cardassians took Bajoran children into their homes and it was not unlikely that one of the soldiers had taken her to be a companion to his own children. He didn't realise that he was voicing his concern aloud, when he heard Chakotay reply angrily.

"Or, taken to some orphan labour camp."

Sergei sighed.

"Yes, That's possible."

"The fact is, Sergei Karkoff, my little niece is missing, and I swear she is alive somewhere. Somewhere in this Quadrant. I must find her, you hear me," Chakotay said urgently as he gripped Sergei's shoulders. "I must find her...I must find her..."

"Fine, Comrade. We have to leave now. You will have to resume your fight another day. It's a long haul back to Earth and we have to prepare for the debriefings..."

"Debriefings!" Chakotay spat. "You're right. Starfleet will want to know, right? They weren't interested in protecting my people, but we have to give them a full report of what happened here..."

"Chakotay - "

"Leave me alone, Sergei!"

With that Chakotay strode out of the medical bay and made for the holodeck.

He was going go kill a few Cardassians, even if they were only holograms.

***

**END CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book three: ABYSS

* * *

 

**BOOK THREE: ABYSS**

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE** ****

Kathryn Janeway eased her way into the rocking chair, closing her eyes briefly as the chair moved. She was tired, very tired, and with a full month to go she was becoming impatient to have it over and done with and hold her baby in her arms. The thought brought a wild elation in her. She opened her eyes and caressed her belly, then sighed as she looked around her. The room was very beautiful, something that she had not imagined and a complete surprise when she stepped into it a few nights ago. She adored the mobile. It was something she and Chakotay "discussed" when they had been pregnant the first time.

"Starships. No contest."

"Not even a little Treevis dangling about?" he had asked, looking disappointed. He was losing the round and she reveled heartlessly in beating him.

"Oh, no! The Treevises and Flotters we keep for wall appliqués. Mickey and Minnie Mouse, too. Starships, it is."

Chakotay, though beaten, was not going to give up that easily.

"So, I'm not to have a hand in it? Me, the builder of cribs and chairs and er...tubs?"

She had forgotten about her tub. She shook her head and batted her eyelids at him, not minding a bit at sounding feminist and feminine, thrilling inside when he caved in.

"See, there we women get the last say in these baby things."

Chakotay had given her a sound kiss, then pushed him off her lap.

"Fine, have it your way then. I'll sleep on the couch - "

She recanted instantly.

"Then again, I'd love to have our eagles part of the mobile..."

She had waited with baited breath, loving him fiercely when his face broke into a slow, knowing smile.

"You were always going to have the eagles on, Kathryn..."

How could they not tumble into bed after that and make sweet love?

Kathryn touched her stomach protectively, smiling every time the baby kicked as if she felt her mother's thoughts. The decision to move back had not been difficult after all. Her fear that it might trigger memories of Chakotay and Sedeka together, with those terrifying pictures of them, had been unfounded when in fact, the opposite happened. She remembered their good times, their intimate moments; she remembered how impatient he had been for his leg to heal, how he hadn't wanted her to go with him to hospital.. So many images flooded inside her.

She couldn't fix the two eagles, so she placed them side by side on the mantelpiece. It was one of the few things Chakotay left here . Above the mantelpiece was the sand painting Chakotay had completed even before he met her officially. He always claimed it was her, even when he hadn't known her at all. Chakotay had taken most of his things, even his medicine wheel. But she had gradually, over the past few days, filled up their home again. There were pictures, copies of his favourite books in the little bookshelf they shared and even his favourite mug he used for the odd cup of coffee he drank. In the lounge, just behind the couch, she hung a large, framed photograph of him. She wasn't overly sentimental, but she thought of her child, too. Hannah would know her father, no matter where in the universe he would be.

She pictured Chakotay on the occasions he sat in his armchair in the lounge, reading a book, or studying reports, always working on new strategies and maneuvers, giving her a tender smile when she touched his shoulder to tell him dinner was ready.

She was able for once to put those bad memories a little behind her. They were still there, but at least, she could look at them with a rational mind that she'd not allow them to hurt her anymore. She had a baby to think of... She gave a little sigh. Now, thoughts of the baby, of Hannah swarmed into her when in the early months all she could think of was Chakotay's defection to another woman, and the baby he made with her. Hannah took up all her thoughts. Hannah and Chakotay. It was perhaps a little late, but she decided, never too late. Now she could look at her swollen abdomen and dream dreams of Hannah, of the three of them together again, if he'd have her. Her reactions those first times had all but convinced her he'd never come to her, never speak with her. She sent him away. Her mother was right, she realised belatedly.

Yes, it had been a good decision to come back. This was their home, a home they made together, where they shared intimacies so tender it made her want to weep; where they laughed and they cried at the height of their lovemaking. In this home he helped her through the trauma of her miscarriage, in this home they made love for the first time, in this home he proposed to her. She gave a tender little smile. Yes, in this home she fought with him, battled to get him to hospital - her own warrior who was so injection shy

Kathryn had braved Phoebe's annoyance, welcomed her mother's blessing and called Mark to help her move. She was finding Hannah a real weight and moving about as briskly as she had done before was becoming tiring. Dalene had gone offworld with Andreas and the children, and though she would have liked her friend to give her a hand moving in again, she settled for Mark. She was in no mood to do battle with Phoebe who had adopted such a clannish attitude, wanting to protect her older sister from the likes of a man "who betrayed you, Kate." So, Mark was more than happy to help her while he was currently home before going to the Greater Federation Conference at Deep Space Nine.

Mark had been cheerful, glad that she still remained friends with him even in the current circumstances. He had made good on his promise that he wanted to be her friend. He had arrived in Indiana with a huge, pink, stuffed teddy bear, the biggest thing she had ever seen.

"I'm not going to ask where you got that," she said as she tried to hold the giant teddy up while at the same time trying to hold herself up.

"Then don't. It's not for you. Hannah will be able to sleep on it. Look..." Then he showed her some hidden zippers and openings and folds and without fumbling like she just assumed he would, Mark converted the bear into a camp style bed.

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

He had given her a tender, quirky smile.

"I'm still your friend, Kathryn..."

"I appreciate that, Mark."

She really did. Even knowing that Chakotay was no longer a part of her life, Mark never gloated, nor referred to the day in the gardens at Starfleet Headquarters when he had given her a gentle warning and spoke about his fear that she might get hurt again. In fact, she had never seen Mark so concerned, so ready to make things comfortable for her "for you to be ready when Chakotay returns..."

"You seem certain of that, Mark."

"I am. No man who could love you the way Chakotay does could ever stay away from you."

"It's been a difficult time, you know."

"I know, but the way I also know Kathryn Janeway, she will put things in the right context and then, the healing will start."

"Spoken like a true counsellor."

"Don't mock, me," he said smartly. "Come, are you ready to move in?"

When he had to leave again after helping her move back, she rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, Mark."

"You're welcome, Kathryn." He looked at her stomach. "You sure you don't want a friend to be present at Hannah's birth?"

She shook her head and pushed him gently to the door.

"Phoebe has already appropriated that right," she told him. "She's not going to give that up."

"I guess not. See you next week, then."

He had left and she returned to the nursery. Only then she could look properly at what had been done as she turned the light to low illumination. The glow swelled into the room, and one by one items of furniture stood out. She gasped when she saw the crib. Walking to it slowly, she touched the side bar and looked into it, her eyes filling with tears. Through the sheen she tried to take in the details - the frilled padding, the pink satin pillow with Hannah's name embroidered on it; Hannah's name on the headboard, which she knew Chakotay must have written there in his flowing cursive style. Loving hands built the crib, she thought with awe. _Loving hands..._

She touched the pillow, caressed the smooth fabric and only when the pillow moved slightly, did she see something sticking out.

Carefully she pulled out the folded paper, tied with a light blue satin ribbon. Chakotay had written her numerous little surprise notes when they lived here, and he always just folded the sheets and tied them with a shiny little ribbon.

"Chakotay..." she murmured softly she held the letter in her hand, the other hand going instinctively to her stomach. At that moment Hannah kicked right against her hand and Kathryn smiled indulgently. "She heard your name, Chakotay..."

Kathryn sat down in the rocking chair, noting idly how beautiful it was. The dark wood gleamed and felt smooth to her touch. Her heart thudded wildly. Chakotay had written her. It was a thought that lifted her a little. No, she thought. Not a little.

A lot.

Kathryn took the ribbon off and opened the letter. She drew in her breath, then let it out slowly as she started to read...

_"Dear Kathryn..."_

_If you are reading this letter, you are hopefully also sitting in the rocking chair. You are in fact, home. I want to tell you how wonderful that sounds to me: just the thought that you are reading this in the place you turned into a home for us. By this time you also know that I've had to pilfer some of your credits._

"So that's where my missing credits went to," she murmured softly.

_I spoiled two sheets in my attempt to write like your Mr Darcy. I know, I know. You used to tell me the Austen men were all good letter writers... Still, what I've done was worth every credit, Kathryn._

_I know I don't deserve much of your kindness. My heart is full and there are so many things I want to tell you, dearest Kathryn. Some of them... You know how difficult it is for me to tell you of what happened. I know you will never believe me. Even saying that doesn't bode well, does it? I never had any faith that you'll believe me; I never had any faith in you, but now it is too late. I have done something terrible, something that perhaps one day, when you are not so unhappy or bitter, I shall tell you about, if you'll let me._

_But let me get to the nursery. I wanted to do this for you, Kathryn. For you and Hannah. It is my anniversary gift to you. You know I never claim anything tangible as a birthday gift for myself, and just the knowledge that you accept what I've given you, is the greatest gift you can give me on my birthday. Last year you married me on my birthday and that is something I shall always treasure._

"Tomorrow is your birthday..." she murmured. "I'm back in our home, Chakotay... Happy birthday..."

_Whatever else happened between us, I want you to believe that my love for you has remained constant. I love you as deeply now as I did the day I first saw you and realised that my life has changed forever. Please, my love, could you hold on to that? I know it is such a lot to ask! I know it may never set things right, but it is how I still feel._

_I can't tell you nothing has changed, because so many things did. We are apart, through no fault of your own, but mine alone. I must bear the consequences of my deeds, for I believe that I must endure our separation as the punishment. Our baby will always remain the tie that binds us, as is my own loving heart a bond._

_But Kathryn, my home is your home. You know I had no family to begin with. Well, none that I wanted to claim for myself, though they were always there. But you showed me that pride can be a bitter bedfellow if you allow it to remain fixed in your heart. You showed me that I needed only to be 'the least of men', and my father would accept me into his heart again. My father didn't accept me back into his heart because, Kathryn, I never left it. That's what he told me._

_Now I can tell you, Kathryn, you will always be in my heart, no matter what happens, no matter what my fortunes turn out to be. If I had to lose my freedom, then thoughts of you and our daughter will break down the walls that will be my prison._

_Always._

_I want to set your mind and heart at rest about Sedeka. It is the one assurance I can give you right now. Sedeka is not pregnant; she has never been pregnant. I know that she informed you of that. I promise you, my love, that Sedeka will never bother you again. I have made sure of that. There is nothing between us and there has never been anything between us. What you saw...Oh, how can I allow such humiliating thoughts to sully all my good ones again? You will know the truth about that, I swear, Kathryn. I wish, nay desire desperately, for you to believe that. I understand you may think that these could be a lame explanation, a vain attempt to expiate myself._

_But it is the truth._

_I have never been more serious in my life, because it is for my very life I am fighting. I wish to remain your friend, your husband, even if I may never see you again._

_Hannah will have a good mother, a caring parent. Please tell her about me, will you, Kathryn? Tell her I love her beyond my very life, and though I cannot be with her, I will always think of her._

_I must leave, Kathryn, and will be gone a few weeks._

_My blessings and love, always._

_Chakotay._

Kathryn sighed again. She cried that night, cried long and hard. Cried for what she had lost, cried for Chakotay who tried his best to give her reassurances, for Hannah whom she finally came to love.

Hannah. 

After Sergei and Svetlana's visit, it had done something to her. It gave her a connection to Chakotay, a message that he still loved her with all his heart. She had been terrified that he would leave her forever and never return, even if she asked him to come back. The knowledge that he would still always look out for her and Hannah, made her heart soar again.

Now she could hope, now she could plan for her baby. She gave a shrug. For a long time she had been a frozen block of ice, not wanting to think about Chakotay and what he had done, not wanting to think. She had come very, very close to hating her baby.

She came so close to hating her baby...

Kathryn look at her heavy, swollen belly.

She loved Hannah. How could she not? How could she not? Hannah was a part of her and a part of Chakotay.

If she dared to admit it to herself....

"I love you, Chakotay..." came the soft admission, and with it, the tears.

She had been thinking so much the last few days since Sergei and Svetlana's visit to Indiana.

Chakotay's face the night she found them together... He had been distraught. If she pushed aside her own panic, her own frantic and irrational desire to run as far away as she could from the reality and distilled all Chakotay's expressions, his words, his stammering, his body language into a few sentences, then...

It didn't fit.

It had been a revelation as blinding as when Paul found the flash of light from heaven above him on the Damascus road. Kathryn could picture Sedeka and Chakotay together now far more rationally and clinically than the painful recollections of before. Even if he didn't love her, even if they were only great friends, it didn't feel like Chakotay. It was a belated realisation, brought on by Sergei's visit, Chakotay's letter, her own continued yearning for him. Now she could actually look on the episode with a dispassionate air and see the real tragedy of how her own reaction hurt him too. She couldn't help the way she reacted; in that she admitted reluctantly, she was as human as the next person. She had never in her entire life of regarding herself as a sane, rational and excessively disciplined individual, thought that she could fold like she did the day she saw Chakotay and Sedeka together. She was strong, wasn't she? She could handle any crisis, couldn't she? She ran a starship efficiently, like the disciplined Starfleet officer she was trained to be, wasn't she? So why, when her emotional equilibrium was tested to its brink, did she react in such a way, so completely unlike an efficient Captain who could remain unruffled in any crisis?

No, she decided. She couldn't help her reaction.

"I am just human...like everyone else, not exempt from the forces that could break me...I was human..." she murmured to herself as she stroked her belly, her heart lifting as Hannah responded.

Chakotay...

She could analyse the look on his face. The two times he had contacted her, his stance when in this very home she told him she was leaving and that everything was over between them... Chakotay looked like she ripped the floor from under him.

No, there were no tears. Chakotay wept at times, mostly during their most private and intimate moments of lovemaking when he would whisper brokenly how he would never be able to exist without her... She didn't expect tears, but also, she didn't expect the completely lost look he had about him. He looked like he wanted to die. In her distraught, hurt state, she had unwittingly done something terrible that day: she had reinforced his guilt and remorse and taken from him the will to fight for her.

It didn't fit, what she saw him do with Sedeka. What truth did he allude to in the letter? What was it that he wanted to tell her that day just after Sedeka told her she was pregnant? Kathryn had always assumed that Sedeka's pregnancy was what Chakotay wanted to confirm. And why, if that were true, would he tell his wife that his lover was pregnant? Wasn't that something a man wouldn't want his wife to know?

Now, looking back, and picturing Chakotay's expression, hearing his words, analysing phrase by stammering phrase, it was something else he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her something else!

The truth?

No, what he and Sedeka did, never fit.

It never did.

He had been too upset, and she had been too distressed to acknowledge that Chakotay could feel bad about what happened.

Her mother was right, and so was Sergei when they more or less told her there was more to it than met the eye. Only, her eyes had been glazed with pain then, and her heart broken and burning with shame and humiliation at feeling inadequate, at knowing her husband could do that to her.

Chakotay would never knowingly hurt her.

Never _knowingly_.

Something wasn't right. Chakotay had to be inebriated, brought on not by his own hand, of that she was dead certain. He rarely drank alcohol, sipped champagne and table wine with her when they felt like it. When once she asked him why he avoided anything with a high alcohol content, his answer had been succinct.

"I need to be in control, at all times, Kathryn. I hate to be drunk and not in control. Of course, when I make love to my wife, it's a different matter."

She had laughed it off then, been pleasantly surprised at his stance. Now, bringing that statement into perspective, Chakotay's behaviour lacked control of the kind he said. Sedeka must have done something...

The way the talks went on Dorvan... Was it a way of getting rid of him? Kathryn thought. It had to be, and then perhaps, Sedeka got caught up in her own snare she set Chakotay.

"I should know," Kathryn murmured again. "Chakotay is in my blood, and all he had to do was smile..."

Kathryn thought again of Chakotay's letter. Her heart warmed as she remembered certain lines, his avowal that he loved her, that he never stopped. He gave her assurance that Sedeka wasn't pregnant, that she'd never bother them again and she believed Chakotay.

She believed him, now. Implicitly.

Kathryn wiped the tears from her cheek, She hadn't realised how they were streaming down her face. She felt hope again. One day, as Chakotay said, he'll tell her everything; he'll tell her the truth and she will believe him.

But she didn't need the truth now, to believe him...to believe in him.

She rose from the rocking chair and grimaced at her clumsy movements.

"And I'm a Starfleet captain..." she muttered as she made her way to the bedroom, feeling infinitely lighter than she had in months. At the dresser, she bent down carefully and opened Chakotay's drawer for the first time since she moved back.

It still lay there, she could see. Only this time, there was nothing else in the drawer and the oblong box was covered with a note - rice paper - and a white satin ribbon tied to it. Her curiosity got the better of her. It wouldn't hurt to look, would it? It was for her, wasn't it? Didn’t matter how long it lay in his drawer, did it? She smiled as she lifted the box out and carefully removed the ribbon and note and open the letter. She laughed out loud after reading the first line.

_If you're reading this, Kathryn, then you peeped illegally. But that is fine, since you need to know that the gift is to be opened only on your next birthday..._

Kathryn's mouth lifted in a gentle curve as she put the box back in exactly the same position she found it. It was as if Chakotay had eyes everywhere. Was he watching her?

 _"I'm always thinking about you, Kathryn..."_ she remembered him saying once. It was strange. She could feel his presence, feel the calm settling in her again, finally.

When she retired to their room for bed, it was on his side of the bed she crawled into, his pillow she rested her head on. She pulled the cover over her, feeling snug and contented, with Hannah only occasionally moving.

"So you're tired too, huh."

The baby gave a hard kick as if she replied to her mother's voice. Kathryn turned her face into the pillow - Chakotay's pillow, inhaling the faint smell of him still on it and closed her eyes. Her hand stroked her belly and when the baby kicked again, Kathryn said dreamily:

"Once, there was a legend of an Angry Warrior who fell in love with a princess..."

**************

Kathryn woke with a start when the front door chimed. Her timer showed only 0100 and she groaned. As she lifted herself to a sitting position, the chime went off again. She wondered fleetingly how long the chime rang. Only Chakotay had the code to this apartment and he wouldn't knock... She pulled a robe over her and stuck her feet into the slippers by the bedside. Running her fingers through her hair, she walked as quickly as she could to the door.

The door opened. Kathryn frowned when she saw her mother and Sergei Karkoff standing in front of her. She was instantly on the alert. He would never visit this time of the night, and what was wrong with a vid-com and why was her mother with? Did something happen? Why did her mother look so serious?

"Mom?"

"Hello, Kathryn."

"Sergei, Mom, come inside."

Kathryn flinched as her mother touched her shoulder and pressed her gently towards the first seat in the lounge: Chakotay's chair.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" she asked, looking already distraught at her mother and Sergei in turn.

"Kathryn," Sergei started without preamble, "there has been an attack by the Cardassians on Dorvan."

Kathryn froze at the look on his face. She looked at her mother. She could only think of Chakotay. It must have shown on her face. She didn't care what showed on her face. Chakotay... Oh, dear heaven... She tried to get out of the chair and her mother pressed her back again.

"C-Chakotay?" Kathryn stammered.

"He lost his entire family, Kathryn. Everyone on Dorvan died..."

"Even the children?" she asked. Sergei nodded mutely. He looked tired, unhappy, so did her mother. Chakotay lost everyone close to him, everyone. She tried to get up again, and this time her mother helped her. She looked beseechingly at them.

"I must go to him. He needs me. Chakotay - he needs me..."

Sergei looked away, then looked at her mother. Both were quiet. Then Gretchen took Kathryn's hand and squeezed it gently.

"We don't know where he is, Kathryn."

"Mom? Chakotay is gone? Where? Where is he? Oh...!" she cried out as she bent over with pain

***

The warm rain sifted through the broad fronds and leaves of the trees surrounding the clearing. Men and women stood, silent and pensive, while Chakotay's clothes were removed and a robe pulled over him. His eyes were closed, his face wet as he raised it to the man standing in front of him.

A sudden flash, and he saw his father standing like he was standing now in front of the elders of the tribe. The young boy stood watching the ritual with a cold, impassive, belligerent air.

He heard Kolopak's words.

_"One day, you shall embrace the traditions of our ancestors, my son..."_

He heard his own words.

_"No one chooses for me, Father. Then I am a contrary..."_

_"You will always be pulled between two worlds..."_

When the elder spoke, Chakotay could say only _cha-moo-zeeh._ He could only, like his father twenty years ago, trace the sign in the damp soil.

They understood.

"You are the son of Ko-lo-pak."

"Kolopak is no more..." said another elder. Chakotay had shown no surprise. He had not told them of his people, of their deaths. They knew, for the sky spirits told them.

"I come to honour my father," Chakotay replied.

The elder smiled. He bore the tattoo of his people, like Kolopak who had stood on the same spot so long ago to take the mark in honour of his father and their ancestors.

Chakotay remembered the young boy watching the ecstasy on Kolopak's face as they painted the tattoo against his forehead above his left eye.

He had not understood then. He had been an angry young boy who was curious about the universe. Kolopak had been disappointed, hurt that his first born son did not embrace his traditions. But in those moments, as he remembered them now, the young Chakotay did experience something strange when he looked at his father, so at home amongst the Rubber Tree People. It had lain hidden inside him for twenty years. For so long he denied what he felt then, suppressed it to allow his love of the unknown, his desire to be a Starfleet warrior overtake him so that until now he had forgotten how he felt then in those moments.

The elder's hand scorched the paint into his skin and the burning sensation burned away the fleece over the memory the boy had hidden for so long as he watched Kolopak and the pure joy on his father's face.

The pride of his race burned into him; he was suddenly, magnificently free as he gave in to that hidden sensation of twenty years ago, and acknowledged what he had denied for so long:

_"We are of the same hand, Father..."_

_"We are of the same hand, my son..."_

_"I wish to honour the land and everything it yields that is a celebration of life..."_

_"You have not forgotten..."_

Yes, Chakotay thought as the elder's hand moved unwavering over his forehead. Yes, he felt the pride, the honour of belonging, as he was feeling it in these moments. Why did he deny it so long?

He closed his eyes and thought of Dorvan as she looked before her destruction. Beautiful, warm, welcoming - so much like Earth. He saw his father's smiling face, the long furrows deep as his face creased; he saw his mother standing next to his father, her arm linked through his. One by one they joined - his bothers, their wives, Sekaya, her husband, Tomaso. They smiled at him and nodded their heads in approval. Missing from the group was little Winonah. He couldn't find her face...

For the first time since he arrived he gave a sob, but he welcomed the tears that mingled with the warm drops of rain and burned down his cheeks.

"It is finished, Cha-ko-tay..."

He opened his eyes, for the first time seeing the people around him. He had been transported to the same place, in a different time, seen himself as the young boy who sneered at the ways of these people. He remembered the lines from a rubaiyat:

 

_"...nor all thy Piety nor Wit_

_shall lure it back to cancel half a line,_

_Nor all thy Tears wash out a word of it..."_

 

He couldn't wipe out a single event of his past; couldn't eradicate a single deed, or emotion or expression of impatience... What he had been then as a young boy...that remained. What he had done as a man, that remained. It walked with him all his life, for all time would it be a part of him. All his tears could not wash away a single facet of his impetuous youth, or erroneous deeds as a man.

Now he felt different, renewed. He raised his hand to touch the mark, and his eyes burned again.

"I thank you," he said with quiet pride.

"We honour those who remember our ways," said the elder.

"I will keep them alive...here," replied Chakotay and he pressed his fist against his heart.

Chakotay then looked up, and overhead two falcons flew, their wings spread splendidly as they hovered against the sky, then circled above them. Finally, they sped away and Chakotay turned to face the people around him.

"I will always remember."

He placed his palm against his chest in a salute, then turned slowly, greeting everyone who came to witness the giving of the Mark. They moved aside for him to pass them, each one touching him as he walked, until they could see him no more.

Then the tribe left also. As silently as they arrived in the clearing, they disappeared.

****

Chakotay was pensive on his way back to Headquarters. Coming to the rain forest to find the Rubber Tree People had been his first priority. Now that Kolopak was dead, he felt more connected to his father than ever before. Already he had seen Kolopak twice in a vision quest, and now, just as the Elder of the Tribe had painted his tattoo on, Chakotay had seen Kolopak again. There had been so many images, so many impressions of meeting his father, but the most precious had been seeing himself as the young, rebellious boy who couldn't understand his father's ways.

It was not so much that he couldn't. It had always been there, he realised with painful insight. He just never wanted to acknowledge it, never admit to himself that he could no more deny his heritage than ask the sun not to shine, even if the sun was hidden sometimes behind storm clouds.

Now, more than ever, he felt the nearness of the land, the oneness of soil, sky, water, everything that the land yielded. He had been a brash young boy so intent on going his own way, so intent on shrugging off the nobility of his people that he had failed for more years than he could remember, the signs that were always there.

He remembered Kolopak's words:

"You will always be one of us, Chakotay..."

How many times had he denied that? How many years did he rob his family of his presence because he believed he was right and they were wrong? The moment the first lines of the tattoo started burning into his skin, he knew that he had never left. He had always been there, wandered off the main track mostly, but always there.

He never left...

The choice to come to the Rubber Tree People had not been a choice, he thought, as he reached Headquarters. It was destiny, a deeply seated truth that his feet just carried him there as a natural, instinctive urge to find completion. He had wandered off to Mexico and other places where no one could find him so many times in his life, always seeking that elusive element that he needed to find completion. He hadn't known before what he was searching for, or realised just how restless he had been. Now he knew what it was that had driven him, even as a young fifteen year old boy who challenged his father. Kolopak had always known. Always. Why didn't the son see it then? Why could he see everything so clearly now?

Now he could get on with his life. There was more purpose to him now than there had been before, even with Kathryn, and with her he found the greatest measure of peace.

He had no family left. Everything on Dorvan that was a part of him, was gone. In three days he lost every member of his family. No one lived anywhere else in the universe. They were all there. His parents, brothers and sister and their families, his cousins, aunts and uncles.

All were gone. There had been a deep chasm in him since he performed the burial rites for his family. He was cut off from everyone who meant something to him, who was tied to him through familial bonds. For hours afterwards he was like a demented man, suffering acute withdrawal, remembering Kolopak's last words as he lay dying in Chakotay's arms. He had only just made contact with his parents for first time in fifteen years; he loved his father all over again and tasted the blessed, cleansing taste of forgiveness from a man who said: "What is there to forgive, my son? You are here, now, and I love as I loved you even when you were contrary." He had been close again to his brothers, his sister, their children.

Once, Kathryn told him: "Why love, when losing hurts so much?" She had spoken then of how she had been afraid to love again. She taught him the most valuable gift of leaping in faith and loving his family, loving her...

Now, they were gone, and only memories remained.

He tried to close his mind to the sight of their bodies, the smell of death that still hung over Dorvan by the time they left. He tried to wipe from his mind the way his mother's body looked, the way so many women looked who were violated by the Cardassians. He tried to wipe the sight of babies stiffened in their mothers' arms, the sight of Tomaso... Chakotay cringed again, cried out as the pain hit him in the chest.

He had been angry. He was still angry. The face of his father was the only thing that tempered his anger. Even to the last, Kolopak had been a dignified man, meeting the sky spirits with open arms, because "that is where my Hannah is waiting for me...and we shall be without pain..."

Chakotay knew what he had to do now. His road had not been very clear in the last months since he and Kathryn separated. Now, there was direction, his course of action something he would take and live with its consequences. Kathryn would understand. He knew that. But first, he had to address the Admirals before doing anything else. He knew that they were already aware of what happened on Dorvan, although it was not officially in their hands or their business, and to save face, not something Hays and Nechayev would broadcast. Still, Paris and Ponsonby needed to know first hand from him.

He was still deep in thought as he alighted from the run down borrowed flitter at Headquarters and braved the icy cold to walk the distance to the main building. He had donned his uniform again after leaving the Rubber Tree People. It felt so strange on him now after wearing just a simple shift of a robe when he had taken the Mark during the ritual. Chakotay shivered a little as he entered the building and made his way to Admiral Paris's office, where both Admirals Paris and Ponsonby were waiting for him. It was an appointment he had made while on their way back to Earth from the Cardassian border.

He gave a tired shrug. It was his birthday, and he hadn't given it much thought. Today, a year ago he and Kathryn were joined in marriage by the very admiral he was going to see. Now, a year later, that marriage had crumbled under the strain of a crisis, and Kathryn was pregnant. He wondered fleetingly what Sergei was doing. It was Anatoly's birthday as well and they usually waited for him to come to their home to present Anatoly his gift.

He sighed. This year... so many things happened. So many things. He missed his mother and father, missed his father's gentle smile and his mother's undaunted look whenever she challenged Kolopak. He missed them. They were gone from his life forever, and Winonah missing. A victim of war, only a child of five years. What could he tell Kathryn?

_I have no family anymore, Kathryn. They have been taken from me. Even you and our daughter are no longer in my life..._

_I am lonely...lonely..._

At the door of Admiral Paris he paused for a few seconds, taking in a deep breath. He had not worn his commbadge, a minor infraction which he was glad to field if questioned about it. His fingers pressed the panel and a second later the door opened.

He stood on attention just inside the door, hearing it swoosh close behind him.

"Admiral Paris, Admiral Ponsonby..." he started, and when they nodded, he took a few steps forward and sat down in the chair opposite them. They stared for ten full seconds at him, before Admiral Paris found his voice. He knew his tattoo caught their attention, though they would not remark on it. It was their Starfleet discipline, he knew. For most he supposed, it would be a curiosity.

"It's good to see you, Captain," Admiral Paris said, waiting only a second for Chakotay to respond to his new designation.

"Er...Admiral, that is one of the things I've wanted to see you about," Chakotay replied, turning his gaze to Admiral Ponsonby as well. It seemed to him they had something on their mind, something beyond the news he wanted to give them.

"It has already been duly logged and noted, Captain. You received your promotion a month ago, and while you did not confirm with me, I took it on good faith that you would accept it."

Chakotay looked at Admiral Paris and shook his head slightly. What were they up to? he thought. He gave a little sigh, then nodded, a little reluctantly. He was not going to give them any good news.

"Captain, we have received word that Dorvan on the Cardassian border has been destroyed..."

"That has been given you in the debriefing by Captain Petranoff," Chakotay responded curtly, feeling again the spread of pain through his body. Admiral Paris leaned forward, linked his fingers on the desk and added.

"Captain, we know that you lost your whole family. I want to offer you on my own family's behalf our very deepest condolences on your loss."

Chakotay looked down, studying his hands that lay lifeless on his lap. He nodded his acknowledgement of Admiral Paris's words. At length he looked up again, unable to keep the emotion from his eyes, the way his voice trembled a little as he spoke.

"Admiral," Chakotay said, his voice low with remembered pain, "Starfleet knew two weeks before the massacre that it would happen. It is something unforgivable that in the light of representations made by my late father and myself, no help was forthcoming - "

"They told you it was out of their hands," Admiral Ponsonby said with a trace of sarcasm in his voice. He looked clearly annoyed at the stance Headquarters took in the Dorvan catastrophe. "It was nothing for them to help, you know."

"We got thrown the Treaty Rule Book, Admiral. The one that said they would violate the Treaty if they did."

"We knew who said that. It's something they went bragging about in the Admiral's circles: how successful the signing of the Treaty was."

"My people are dead," Chakotay said quietly, "and we can't bring them back."

"I am indeed sorry, Captain, that it happened."

Chakotay looked at Admiral Paris. He admired the older man, had a great respect for him. He knew of the Admiral's tough stance and stern manners and extreme application of discipline, but he was a fair officer and good man. Chakotay wished he could know him better, but now...

"Thank you, Admirals, for your concern and condolences. You are the first to express it..."

Admiral Paris looked down on the PADD that lay in front of him, then he gave Ponsonby a furtive look. Chakotay wondered what was up.

"We wanted to give you command of a new vessel, the Crimond - "

"Kathryn's vessel?" Chakotay asked, the words gushing from his mouth.

"Yes."

Chakotay looked at the two men for a long time, then rose from the chair, scraping it as he moved to stand behind it. He cleared his throat.

"That is what I've come to see you about, Admiral Paris. I want to tender my resignation from Starfleet. I feel in the circumstances that my people have been let down by the Federation; that the Federation, while it could have done something, stood back and let the Cardassians massacre an entire population of colonists who had once lived on Earth. In view if these facts, I feel I cannot ally myself with an organisation that had not done enough, and which has turned its back on innocent people. Admiral Paris, Ponsonby, the crew of the Ormskirk buried children on Dorvan..."

Chakotay's voice faltered when he envisioned again the streets lined with children and babies in the arms of their mothers. He shook his head, blinked furiously to prevent himself from shedding any more tears. He drew in a deep, gasping breath and looked the two men again in the eyes. Hands stiffly by his sides he stood. "I am leaving today and will not come to Earth again. My mind has been made up, Admiral Paris. I have to go out there and help protect other homeworlds who face the same kind of threat and genocide, atrocities committed by the Cardassian Union and to which the Federation has turned a blind eye."

He was gasping by the time he finished, and also glad when it was over. He was leaving, and the weight of his decision that had given him sleepless nights the last week on the Ormskirk, suddenly lifted when he felt that he had done the right thing.

It was the right thing.

"Admiral?" he asked when both men exchanged looks, then faced him again.

"Captain, please," Admiral Ponsonby said firmly, "please, sit down."

When he was seated again, he primed himself for their refusal of his resignation.

"Captain Chakotay, we have a proposition to make you..."

He let them speak, occasionally nodding his assent or voicing apprehension or disagreement. Their voices rang on, and he listened intently. Sometimes, he gave some input, and they nodded in agreement, and sometimes they challenged him. Mostly he listened, notated mentally, indexed the information and analysed, challenging again and again. An hour later, Chakotay was still dazed, although he was filled with fierce pride and purpose. Kathryn would understand. He knew she would look upon his decision with equal pride too. Just as soon as he told her of what happened to his father and mother, she would understand this new drive in him. With a mute nodding to the admirals which made them smile and rise to their feet, he rose. He shook Admiral Ponsonby's hand.

"Gentlemen, I thank - "

At that moment Admiral Paris's vid-com beeped.

"Excuse me," he said quickly and switched on his console. Admiral Paris's eyebrow lifted, his mouth curving into a smile.

"Elizabeth! What's happening at the hospital?"

"Owen, dear, is Commander Chakotay with you perhaps? We've been trying since this morning to get hold of him. He seems to have vanished into thin air. Did you know he's without a commbadge? Owen, dear, if - "

Admiral Paris looked at Chakotay, who had stiffened noticeably when he heard his name.

"As a matter of fact, Elizabeth, he is right here. Do you wish to speak with him?"

When Paris looked at Chakotay and indicated he come round to speak to Dr Paris, Chakotay's heart was beating in his throat. The blood drained from his face.

"Dr Paris, what is the matter? Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing that your presence can't cure, Chakotay. Kathryn has gone into labour and she's asking for you."

****

**END CHAPTER TWENTY THREE**

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter CONCLUDES BOOK THREE: ABYSS

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR**

******[END OF BOOK THREE]**

The first contraction started as she called out for Chakotay. She had prepared herself in the last few days, but nothing prepared her for the total shock, the wonder and terror all rolled into one as the pain crawled from her lower back and managed in increments, like tiny flashes of lightning, to inveigle themselves firmly across her abdomen. It wasn't a major descent into screaming or crying out loud. Just her eyes that went wide, her mouth opening and her hand going instinctively to her stomach as the realisation hit her that she was two weeks too early.

 Gretchen Janeway showed no surprise, nor did Sergei Karkoff flinch as both held her up. When the pain cleared as suddenly as it spread all over her, she gasped.

 "Chakotay..."

 "Come, Kathryn, we have to get you to the hospital," Sergei said. Gretchen Janeway had quietly gone into the nursery and collected Kathryn's bag.

 "Chakotay..." Kathryn murmured again as they left the apartment a few minutes later. "They killed his parents...everyone he held dear. Sergei, Mom, he only just met his father again. This - this can't be happening to him! They destroyed Dorvan..."

"Kathryn," Sergei said quietly as he paused to look her in the eyes, "Kolopak was still alive when Chakotay found him. He died in Chakotay's arms. He went with so much dignity. But right now, Kathryn, you have to concentrate on the baby, hmmm?" Sergei thought how Chakotay howled afterwards; long and terrifyingly his crying echoed around the _Habak_ where he found his father. No, Kathryn would learn of that some day, from Chakotay himself. Kathryn though, needed to concentrate on her baby. "Will you, Kathryn?" he asked again when she didn't respond the first time.

 "Yes...yes..." she said distractedly.

 "The second contraction is still a way off, so it's still early stages, okay? Nothing to worry about, Kathryn. Hannah is just in a hurry to say happy birthday to her daddy..."

 "It's his birthday today," Kathryn said, her voice edged with hysteria. Gretchen gave Sergei a look in the flitter when Kathryn was seated safely in it.

 "Well then, Kathryn, you're about to give your husband the best birthday gift on Earth..."

 "He lost everything, Mom. I - " Kathryn was in tears as she spoke, looking distraught from Sergei to her mother. "He'd only just reunited with his parents. He hadn't seen them in fifteen years. They - they welcomed him with open arms, Mom! Now they are gone, gone!"

 "We'd better get to the hospital very quickly, Sergei," Kathryn heard her mother tell him, her tone of voice quiet, unruffled, not revealing its urgency.

 "He's lost everything..."

 "Kathryn," Sergei started, "maybe I should let Chakotay tell you himself, that - "

 "He's not here, is he?" Kathryn shot back. "He's not here, and I - I sent him away."

 "Kathryn, honey, we'll make every attempt to get hold of him and tell him, okay? Right now, you've got to think of your baby, and prepare yourself for her birth - "

 "Hannah, she's named for Chakotay's mother..." Kathryn started sobbing softly, rocking back and forth as she tried to assimilate the news of their deaths. By the time they reached the hospital, Elizabeth Paris was already waiting for them.

 "Dr Paris," Sergei said, "Kathryn is near hysteria."

 "Understood, Dr Karkoff." She had already prepared a hypospray with a light sedative, and Kathryn, when she saw it, recoiled at the sight of it. Elizabeth was quick to respond. "Kathryn, it's necessary, you understand? You're distressing your baby."

 "I - " Kathryn started, looked wildly about her as she was lifted on the biobed. The hypospray was a merciful release as she felt her eyes closing, an image of Chakotay the last before the sleep overtook her.

 "It's only for an hour or two, " Elizabeth said as she looked at Gretchen and Sergei, their worried expressions mirrored in her own eyes.

 "She was frantic, Elizabeth," Gretchen informed her old friend. "She thought only of Chakotay. It's his birthday, did you know?"

 "And their anniversary."

 "Oh, dear God. No wonder..."

 "What?"

 "She's so frantic. She's never been like this, Elizabeth - "

 "She's never been a mother, Gretchen," Elizabeth replied sagely.

 "No, you don't understand. Chakotay - " Gretchen shrugged. "Kathryn must have told you something of what happened that they parted. She's been depressed, you know that - "

 "And your point is?"

 "She's not supposed to call out for him. He cheated on her, wronged her; she hated him for a while; didn't want to see him, still hasn't seen him, didn't want to speak about him." Gretchen pointed to her daughter lying on the bed. "You'd think she'd pop that baby out all by herself, so self-sufficient she is. She doesn't need Chakotay, right?"

 "So all that babble in the past months about not needing him is really telling you to bring the damned man here so Kathryn can have her baby in peace?"

 "What can I say? Kathryn may be my daughter; she may be the best Captain in Starfleet, but right now, she's one concerned soon-to-be-mother who just wants her man here, no matter what he had done to her."

 "He cheated on her."

 "Hell, and she didn't let him have ten words in edgewise to explain. It was really bad, by the way, Elizabeth, but I can tell you: nothing is as it seems."

 "So it seems."

 Sergei stifled the urge to laugh at the bantering between Gretchen Janeway and Elizabeth Paris. They ignored him completely. It was clear to him the two women had a long history, an abiding friendship. He knew about Elizabeth's son somewhere in the Demilitarised Zone. A troublemaker, some have said. A rebel, others said. Just a son who carried the weight of the Admiralty on his shoulders, a few in the know, said. Elizabeth didn't show she was a very worried mother, but Sergei knew that her son's non-appearance in their lives was a sore point; it must cut deeply in both parents. He knew what Chakotay had been like, not acknowledging his father, always speaking about Kolopak in derogatory terms, mocking his father's way of life. Now, when Kolopak was dead, Chakotay suffered the remorse of having gotten to know the kind, gentle man too late. Elizabeth and Owen Paris's son had little time for his parents, according to sources, and who knows? One day Tom Paris might suffer the same guilt of being too late when all he could have done was just come home, like Chakotay did.

 Kathryn did that for her husband. She coaxed, encouraged, braved Chakotay's annoyance many times, just so he could take that leap of faith. She succeeded where Chakotay's best friend failed. Who knows? Maybe Kathryn would one day be instrumental in doing the same for Tom Paris. She had that knack of bringing people together.

 He was glad Dr Paris had given Kathryn a light sedative. Kathryn had been dangerously close to total hysteria. She was so mostly concerned about Chakotay that it stunned him. It was clear to him that her feelings have never changed, and perhaps, with hindsight, could the whole experience of what Chakotay had done, have made her miss him more, love him more? It sounded incongruous, but he sensed it in her, especially after he and Svetlana went to see her in Indiana. Kathryn missed her husband and he, Sergei, was seething when they couldn't trace Chakotay. The man was nowhere to be found, and hell, didn't he always do that whenever the Ormskirk docked at Earth's Orbital Station? Chakotay had a habit of deactivating his commbadge so no one knew where he went to seclude himself for meditation. Sergei looked at the sleeping Kathryn, saw how her eyelids flickered as if she were dreaming. Chakotay had been her great concern in the last few hours. When he returned to Earth and Chakotay had vanished like that, he had gone home first to spend a few hours with Svetlana and the children, then contacted Gretchen Janeway.

 He had known that to inform Kathryn that Dorvan had been under attack by the Cardassians would unsettle Kathryn. The planet had good memories for her, mostly. Chakotay had been the first to tell him how Kathryn fell in love with his parents and family, how she came to feel the same connection he did with the planet. Kathryn had the same emotional attachment to Chakotay's homeworld that Chakotay had. Chakotay had been proud, effusive like he had never really been, about the wonder of being home again with his people, and how they accepted Kathryn as part of his life and, by extension, part of their lives.

 They - he and Gretchen - had thought that Kathryn might have an idea where Chakotay could be, but to inform her of Dorvan, he needed Gretchen Janeway there at least to support Kathryn and stay with her a few days, just in case of an emergency such as had happened. Kathryn's reaction was expected. He had known she would worry more about Chakotay and push all thoughts of her baby to the background.

 Where the hell was Chakotay when they needed him? When Kathryn needed him? Now, looking at the sleeping Kathryn, listening with half an ear to the conversation - though in low tones, still audible - between Kathryn's mother and her doctor, he wanted to kick Chakotay hard for vanishing like that. While he could understand that Chakotay would think Kathryn didn't want him near her, it was still a responsibility he should have anticipated, knowing that Kathryn just might need him.

 Kathryn needed him. What did it matter what had happened between them so many months ago? What did it matter that Kathryn sent Chakotay away from her? What did it matter? She was going to give birth to their daughter, and on his birthday. She wanted him here, with her, that much was clear. She may not have said it in so many words, but her reactions, her near hysteria didn't even baffle the two older women whom he could swear, knew all there was to know about life.

 "Well, Dr Karkoff?" He stared bemusedly at Elizabeth Paris. "We've been hailing you the last ten seconds," she said, sounding amused.

 He gave them a sheepish smile.

 "Kathryn," Elizabeth said to him, "will not mind you assisting in the birth of her baby - "

 He gave a relieved sigh. The two women grinned at him. They had known all the time that he would have liked to be present.

 "If - if we can't find Chakotay?" he asked.

 "I'll put my dear Owen on it. He'll find anything, don't worry, Sergei."

 Now it's Sergei...

 He gave them his most brilliant smile and his face turned bright red; his mussed hair that always looked uncombed even when it was brushed smooth, looked even more mussed after he ran his fingers through it.

 "I'll just have to inform Svetlana I'll be held up here, or - "

 "You'll sleep on the couch?"

 Sergei Karkoff didn’t know where to turn his face as he left the ward to find the nearest vid-com.

 **

 There had not been much pain. The contractions were still too far apart. Her water hadn't broken yet, though she suspected that might happen soon. Kathryn turned her head to where Elizabeth Paris was bent over a console. As if Elizabeth knew Kathryn was watching her, she looked up.

 "What time is it?" Kathryn asked.

 "It's morning."

 "That much I gathered." The window that overlooked a courtyard let enough daylight through so that it wasn't necessary to illuminate the room with artificial light.

 "It's 0900 hours..."

 Kathryn groaned.

 "Be patient, Kathryn. Hannah will make her appearance some time today..."

 "Sometime..."

 Kathryn lay back against the pillows. She had woken up earlier and the reality hit her square on again. It was unbelievable, unthinkable that the entire planet could have been destroyed. She had known that there would be war soon, and the talks on Dorvan were supposed to find an amicable settlement between Cardassia and the Federation. That Chakotay hadn't been present at the talks - she had learnt this from Sergei - didn't alter the balance. The Cardassians were notorious for violating peace settlements and the rights of prisoners of wars and refugees. The Federation was aware of that, so why didn't they help?

 Chakotay must have approached them at some point. Did they refuse to help? Was it because the colonists had given up their citizenship and therefore their right to be protected?

 Her hand went to cover her mouth when she thought of Chakotay's family. They were her parents-in-law, her bothers and sisters and nephews and nieces. All of them dead in a matter of days. Here at Headquarters, there had only been an official announcement - a curt, one lined statement - that there had been an attack on Dorvan. When she enquired, it was met with a curt "everything is under control there" reply. So why didn't they want people to know that the entire population of Dorvan had been massacred?

 She thought of Chakotay, how he had come to renew his love for his parents and how Kolopak had welcomed them with open arms and incredible generosity. She had been stunned at their acceptance of her, when she had been so apprehensive about that first meeting. But Kolopak, dear, kind Kolopak had taken her and hugged her. Once he said: "I know my son, Kathryn. He is like me. We choose the right woman for the rest of our lives. I have my Hannah, Chakotay has his Kathryn..."

 Kathryn closed her eyes at the memory. She remembered young Tomaso, so full of life, so immersed with the hunger to join Starfleet like his Uncle Chakotay had done. She remembered how Winonah came to sit on her lap. The little girl had been diffident, not speaking much, but she had warmed to Kathryn. Kathryn gave a teary smile as she remembered how Winonah had sought her out because "Aunty Kathryn can do her tables". Winonah learned astonishingly quickly and Kathryn had been relieved when Sekaya indicated that she didn't mind Winonah learning as much as she could and that she hoped her daughter could one day also go to the Academy like her cousin Tomaso was going to do.

 "It is Chakotay's fault," said Kolopak one day to her, but his eyes had shone with quiet pride in his eldest son whom he knew would one day be an admiral. Chakotay had promptly replied with: "one day at a time, Father. I just got to know my family again. Let me enjoy that as much as I can..."

 Now they were dead. She couldn't believe it. She fell in love with his parents, his family, their homeworld. Only on Dorvan had she finally found the spiritual connection that she sensed in Chakotay, assail her own being.

 Kolopak's face flashed before her. She saw his smile, the deep dimples, his expedition hat he always wore when he went outdoors. She could picture Chakotay looking like him one day... And Hannah... Chakotay's mother was so small, yet she wielded such unseen power over her household.

 Kathryn touched her stomach. An hour ago she was shown the scan. Her baby was already presenting in the vertex position. She felt the thrill course through her. It was only in the last weeks that she could bear to look at the scans and not think of what Chakotay had done. The first time she had been filled with wonder... awed that Chakotay and his mother could know long before her baby was conceived, that she would be Hannah. Kathryn couldn't think of naming her baby anything else... Hannah would look like Chakotay. She would have his black hair and his colouring, his dimples! If she didn't...if she didn't, why, her mother would send her right back in the womb and order her to change her features.

 Very soon she would hold her baby in her arms... Hannah would look at her and she'd know she was wanted...

  _I want to see Chakotay in my Hannah wherever he might be right now... if I never see him again..._

 Kathryn gave a little sob and seconds later she felt Dr Paris touching her shoulder.

 "Anything the matter, Kathryn?" Elizabeth asked. Her light brown eyes rested warmly on her patient.

 "No...no, it's nothing, Doctor..."

 "Kathryn, you want to tell me about it?"

 "He loved his parents, Doctor Paris. You should have seen him on Dorvan. Chakotay...he - he belonged there, you know. He was in his element, one with the wind and the land and the water..."

 "I know, Kathryn. But you remember what Sergei said, don't you?"

 "What did he say?" Kathryn couldn't remember anything clearly since they left her apartment. She frowned heavily.

 "Kolopak died in his son's arms, Kathryn. He went quietly, with dignity..."

 Kathryn's eyes filled with tears.

 "What have they done to them, Doctor?"

 "I - " Dr Paris started, biting her lower lip before she continued. "I think perhaps you should read Captain Petranoff's official logs."

 "They're official, Doctor Paris. I went on a mission to Bajor where we spoke with many Bajorans who had been tortured, violated, enslaved. Some escaped... "

 Doctor Paris closed her eyes. She was not privy to that information. It was classified, as would Captain Petranoff's official account of the destruction of Dorvan become. But she knew what Kathryn was talking about. Kathryn wanted the between-the-lines version.

 "As you said, Kathryn. They are official. You'll not learn more about what happened there, unless you speak with the crew of the Ormskirk. I do know that Chakotay himself lit the funereal pyre on which his parents, brothers, sister and the children were laid to rest..."

 Kathryn closed her eyes, feeling the burn of tears on her cheeks.

 "Even the children..."

 Elizabeth gave a sigh.

 "Even the children..." she said.

 Kathryn's eyes opened again, and at that moment another contraction hit her. Elizabeth stayed with her until the pain subsided.

 "Phoebe will arrive in the next half hour," she told Kathryn.

 "Oh, Phoebe. She's warned everyone away from me for this baby," Kathryn said lightly, trying to smile.

 "She has?"

 "She insisted she wants to be by my side in the absence of - of..." Kathryn's eyes clouded, then she turned her face away from the doctor.

 "We'll find him, Kathryn..."

 When Kathryn looked at her again with pain-filled eyes, Elizabeth felt like crying with her.

 "I - I know he needs me."

 "I'm sorry, Kathryn. We're doing our best."

 "And Phoebe is not very well disposed towards Chakotay, did you know?"

 "I know..."

 Elizabeth didn't want to tell Kathryn what Gretchen told her. She wondered whether Kathryn knew that Chakotay had been in Indiana. Phoebe had wasted no time telling Gretchen Janeway that she phasered Chakotay off their property. Gretchen had told her, Elizabeth, in good faith. Phoebe was ready to kill him for destroying all Kathryn's chances at happiness. She could understand Phoebe's attitude. They had been there with Kathryn, helping her through the trauma of coming to terms with Edward Janeway and Justin Tighe's deaths.

 Now, with what has happened between Kathryn and Chakotay, Kathryn had gone into deep depression for a while after his "defection to another woman" as she stated to her mother. Elizabeth had seen this first hand, when Kathryn had refused to speak about her baby, or caress her abdomen with that protective air so many first time mothers did. She had been listless, disinterested in the readings. Kathryn had never looked at the scans of her baby... She always gave a cursory glance then looked quickly away again, as if it were a duty she was performing. Then the guilt settled on her face.

 Yes, Kathryn had been hurt beyond her own strength to the point that she lost all interest in her baby.

 Somehow, in the last two weeks, that changed, and Elizabeth's hopes soared again when Kathryn finally did look at a scan of her child, then promptly burst into tears.

 "She looks so small!"

 "Her current weight is about 2.2kg, Kathryn."

 "Look how her heart is beating..."

 "She sensed your excitement. Look, she's kicking more vigorously."

 "Chakotay built her a beautiful crib, and for me, a rocking chair," Kathryn said as she looked at her, her eyes shining with pride.

 "Well, then, now you know he still cares very much, don’t you?"

 For a moment her eyes clouded and Elizabeth thought she saw regret in them. It was over quickly as Kathryn touched the screen showing how her baby was moving around in her womb.

 Elizabeth gave another sigh before she continued monitoring Kathryn. Sergei would only come in later to help. He had gone back home after all, and promised to return with a pink teddy bear.

 An hour later an out of breath Phoebe Janeway rushed into the labour ward.

 "I just heard your water's broken, Sis," she panted as she rushed forward to take Kathryn's hand.

 "You have to proclaim it to the world, Phoebe?"

 "The world is only as small as this delivery room, dummy."

 "Yes, you're right," Kathryn panted. "Who will know?"

 "Hey, little Miss Hannah will soon proclaim herself to the world, and she'll thank me for holding your hand..."

 "Phoebe, thank you. Chakotay, he ..."

 Phoebe's expression hardened and Kathryn flinched.

 "Don't bring him up in conversation, Kathryn."

 "He's my husband."

 "He betrayed you, Kathryn," Phoebe responded icily.

 "Not now, Phoebe," she sighed, then her body arched as a contraction started. Phoebe held her hand tightly and waited until Kathryn could breathe normally again.

 "How far apart are they?"

 "Too close!" Kathryn panted.

 "Then, Sis, you must breathe. You did those exercises, right?"

 "No. I wasn't interested. My husband betrayed me, remember?" There were angry tears in Kathryn's eyes as she looked at her sister. "What right has he got to be here? He wasn't with me all the way, was he? Why should I bother? He's somewhere in this quadrant and I couldn't care less if I never see him again."

 "Oh, Kate..."

 "Don't 'oh, Kate' me," she said fiercely. "It's what you're thinking, Phoebe. Ever since Chakotay - "

 "Kathryn, I'm so sorry. But Kathryn, you have _us_ here with you. I'm here and Mom will also be here later. Don't worry, then."

 Kathryn fell back against the pillows, her face drenched in perspiration, her hair already matted against her skin. Phoebe held her hand then gave it a reassuring squeeze. Kathryn remained motionless, staring at the ceiling.

 Phoebe closed her eyes fleetingly, then looked at Kathryn again.

 "You still love him."

 "Do you want me to apologise for that?" There was an edge to Kathryn's voice.

 "I can't help how I feel, Kate. I - "

 "He - he lost his people, Phoebe."

 Phoebe nodded. She had heard of the news that filtered through Starfleet.

 "I'm sorry, Katie..." Kathryn turned to face her sister. Her eyes were sunken, tired. Phoebe cringed at the look in Kathryn's eyes. It was not an accusing look, just immensely sad.

 "Don't be, Phoebe. He's not here to defend himself, you know. I - I never gave him a chance - "

 "Kathryn! The man - " Phoebe started, then clamped her mouth shut. A second later she recovered herself when Kathryn arched again as then next contraction started. Phoebe gripped her hand tightly. When the pain subsided, Kathryn lay back again, her eyes closed. A tear rolled down her cheek.

 "Chakotay..."

 Elizabeth Paris left the room quietly and went into her office, initiating a hail to Admiral Owen Paris's room at Headquarters.

 ***

 Doctors Karkoff and Paris were in the delivery room with Kathryn, and a worried Phoebe holding Kathryn's hand when a beep sounded at the door. Gretchen Janeway who was watching the reading on the computer console carefully, rose from her seat.

 "I'll go," Phoebe said quickly, indicating that her mother remain.

 She got up from the chair and moved swiftly to the door, annoyed at the intrusion and ready to be annoyed at the intruder. No one else was allowed inside. She opened the door.

 "You!"

 "Hello, Phoebe."

 Chakotay stood in front of her. Phoebe bristled, then pushed Chakotay roughly away from the door. The door slid close behind them, and the two of them squared off in the corridor. Phoebe's eyes glinted sharply. Chakotay stood resolute, unlike his stance of a month earlier when she pressed a phaser into his back.

 "I told you to stay away from my sister, Chakotay. She doesn't need you. We are here for her."

 "She's my wife," Chakotay said, his voice cold.

 "And a little late for you to remember that."

 "She wants me in there, Phoebe."

"Wrong. You forfeited your right."

 Chakotay fumed for a few seconds, wanting to crush Phoebe Janeway with one hand firmly round her neck. His fists balled at his sides as he tried to check his frustration at Phoebe's attitude.

 "Look, I didn't come here to fight with you. I came to be with Kathryn."

 "She doesn't know what she wants."

 "She asked for me. That means something to me, even if it means nothing to you."

 "She's a fool. You don't deserve her- "

 Chakotay lost it for a few moments as he grabbed Phoebe by her shoulders and shook her.

 "Listen, Phoebe. Listen carefully. You can hate me all you want afterwards and forever if you like. Punish me as much as you want to. I can take it. I probably deserve it. But just the other day I had parents, a sister, two brothers, nephews and nieces. In one swoop I lost everyone on Dorvan I ever held dear and loved. They are gone forever, Phoebe. Gone, you hear me? You are all I have that I can claim as family. My people died. All of them. The Cardassians weren't very choosy when it came to violating the women on my home world. Seven Cardassians raped my mother. I held her dead body in my arms. My father..." Chakotay closed his eyes as the memory scraped into his still raw wounds; the hands that had gripped Phoebe's shoulders suddenly releasing her and slumping to his sides. He balled his fists to halt the violent trembling of his fingers.

 Phoebe's eyes went wide with shock. She stood frozen against the wall as Chakotay let go of her. He was wheezing, the gasps painful as his chest constricted.

 "I - I shouldn't have said that," he said softly. "Please, let me go in there. I'll not come back again, but just this once, to see my child born. It's all I ask..."

 "Chakotay, I - I didn't know. Kathryn...does she know how they d-died...?"

 Chakotay wiped his brow in a tired gesture.

 "I don't know," he sighed. "I don't know..."

 Phoebe rested her hand on his shoulder; all the fight left her. She looked...remorseful, he thought.

 "I - I'm sorry. I was hard on you. I'm sure you had reasons."

 He nodded, looking at the closed door with great hunger in his eyes. Phoebe noticed, then she touched the outline of his tattoo.

 "You want to know how I can punish you more than you deserve, Chakotay?"

 He shook his head. He felt beaten. Phoebe just rubbed salt in fresh wounds. He couldn't fight her anymore.

 "If you don't go in there to be with her, my brother. She will be happier, Chakotay, with you by her side..."

 ***

 Kathryn heard his voice as soon as Phoebe opened the door and almost, she wanted to climb off the bed and run to him. She raised herself from the pillows and fell back again as Sergei's hand touched her shoulder. She turned to Sergei. He smiled kindly, with eyes that told her she just had to be patient. Then she stared at the closed door again.

 Chakotay was here! The blood rushed through her body, touching every organ, every sinew and every nerve as it always did, only this time it added the good news so that it felt as if her whole body was singing and Hannah was singing along with her. She felt herself being lifted, higher and higher she went, soaring away and coming to rest gently on a cloud of happiness. The knowledge of Chakotay's presence burst into her brain and burned through her, overriding the contraction that made her arch and stiffen. This time it was Sergei who held her hand and waited for the pain to subside. She didn't cry out, but instead, kept her head turned to the door.

 It _was_ his voice she heard - dear, dear voice, sounding intimate and beloved and worried all at once. She could only get the most fleeting glimpse of him before Phoebe closed the door again, but she knew that in the next few minutes, if not sooner, Chakotay would be standing next to her and he would hold her hand and soothe away all her fears and hurt and yearning and tell her everything would be alright.

 She had dreamed of him. In the beginning, the dreams had woken her in the middle of the night and terrorised her, telling her strange tales of a man who loved her once, then left her to live alone to the end of her days. The dreams showed her the face of another woman with him and then both of them would taunt her with their laughing. Most nights she woke up crying, and she had no idea how she got to be crying. Then she'd lie awake, and try not to think at all, her body straight and stiff and unloved. Then she would give up and cry again until she fell into another restless slumber. She had other dreams. Dreams of Chakotay walking next to his father, the two of them so alike in everything. Other times she'd dream of the baby looking like the woman who slept with him. Then she'd wake up gasping again. Most of the time, she just missed him.

 And always, when she woke in the middle of the night, her hand would rest on the empty space next to her.

 She had been afraid of that loneliness, so afraid. It was not so much in the physical aloneness that her fear was rooted, but the knowledge that he would never return to her; that despite her feelings that had never changed, despite his own declaration of unending love, he would be somewhere in this universe, away from her. All that happened would lie between them like a mountain, or the deepest chasm over which they could not build another bridge. If they did build a bridge, it would teeter, swing to and fro precariously on its fragile ropes before it broke and plunged them into the depths.

 She had known of darkness and of pain and of hell and of never wanting to come back from that darkness. She had known it when her father and Justin died; she had known it when the man on the other side of that door left her. Now he was here, and her heart soared to the heavens. His voice had sounded so achingly familiar.

 Why didn't he come in?

 She turned to Sergei who was still holding her hand. Her mother stood on the other side of her and smoothed her matted hair away from her face.

 "He's here..." she breathed softly.

 "Yes, Kathryn," Gretchen said gently, "Chakotay is here..."

 "Mom, he - " Kathryn started, but the door opened. Gretchen and Sergei moved away quietly, allowing Kathryn full view of her husband.

 Chakotay walked to the bed, slowly, hesitant. Kathryn closed her eyes for a second, then she opened them to look at him again. There was no smile; his whole face was tense, and a nerve in his jaw twitched. He stood next to the bed, his hands stiffly at his sides, as if he waited...

 Waited...

 Kathryn's hand reached for his face, and he bent down so that she could touch him. Chakotay's eyes closed as Kathryn traced with trembling fingers the outline of the mark that stretched from his temple to curl and straighten just above his left eyebrow. His face felt warm to her touch, the skin slightly damp. He looked like Kolopak, she thought with wonder. Chakotay and Kolopak. Kolopak and Chakotay... Was there ever a difference? She pulled his face closer to hers and only then, from deep inside her, the sob swelled and rose until she could contain it no longer. Her cry when it came, burst from her and muffled as Kathryn felt herself lifted into his arms, her face pressed into his neck. His arms were around her, warm, protective. He gave a deep shudder.

 "Oh, Chakotay..."

 ***

 He was afraid, as afraid as he had never been in his life when he entered the room. He could see only Kathryn as she lay on the high bed. All the other figures in the room receded into a haze, moved graciously away so that only Kathryn and Chakotay could be seen in an aura of light that spread around the two of them.

 Yet he couldn't move. He had not seen her in months; he had not touched her or kissed her or just looked at her as if he could never tire of looking at her.

 He would never tire of looking at Kathryn Janeway.

 The first time he had seen her, she had opened her door for him. She had stood with the light behind her creating a halo around her. The moment had been as stunning as it was sacred. In his heart that day, he knew that he would love Kathryn Janeway forever. There were no prior considerations, no doubts, no thinking that something might grow from that meeting. He just knew in that moment, if she vanished from the face of the earth forever, that he loved her. He had been searching all his life for someone who would become his reason for living. Kathryn Janeway opened her door and opened her heart and allowed a lonely, searching, angry warrior man into it and gave him peace.

 He couldn't speak. He just looked at her, afraid that she might send him away after all, afraid that she might punish him. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew Kathryn wouldn't do that, but he couldn't help thinking it. So he let her see his fear.

 In a daze he watched her hand come up to touch his face. In a daze he felt her trembling fingers creep along the outline of his tattoo. His eyes closed at the wonder of feeling her hand on his face. When he opened his eyes again, he saw how hungry her own eyes were.

 He saw something else.

 Kathryn knew.

 In that moment he scooped her into his arms and held her as she sobbed for a few minutes heartbrokenly. His tears mingled with hers, soaked into his uniform and washed away some of his pain. Chakotay pressed her closer to him, kissed her hair, her forehead, the wet eyelashes which caught her tears only to drop them onto his hands, burning wondrously over his skin.

 When he finally released her, she still could not stop touching his face, his tattoo. Everything was reaffirmed, made blessed again. His hand finally rested on her stomach.

 Only then he spoke.

 "Hannah..."

 And Kathryn said: "She waited for you... Happy birthday, Chakotay..."

 His eyes filled with tears. He looked at his wife again for long, long moments. Kathryn pulled him to rest his head against her bosom, and she caressed his head. Then her body arched again as another contraction started and Chakotay, surprised, lifted his head. Like someone drowning, her hand reached for him and he held on to her, gripping tightly as she cried out. His other hand was on her head. He held her until the pain subsided and Kathryn collapsed back against the pillows. Only then they became aware again of the people around them, and Elizabeth stood on the other side, gracing Chakotay with a beatific smile as she held the hypospray in her hand. Kathryn looked at her, her eyes widening; then she turned to look at Chakotay, as if she were saying she didn't want to be free of the pain.

 "Baby is still a few hours away, Captain," Elizabeth addressed Chakotay. "I believe I should call you Captain..."

 Kathryn's eyes widened again. She never noticed the four pips on his collar, and before she could react, Chakotay bent over and kissed her.

 Sergei and Gretchen also approached, and Gretchen's hand rested on Chakotay's shoulder.

 "We'll leave you two for a while, Chakotay."

 "So," Elizabeth asked, "would you object to my delaying the pain of the contractions for about an hour, Kathryn?"

 Kathryn looked at Chakotay. Her hand was still held protectively in his. They had so much to talk about, and Dorvan lay like a mountain before him. Kathryn turned to Elizabeth Paris and nodded. A few moments later Elizabeth administered the painkiller and Kathryn gave a small sigh of relief. Only Elizabeth Paris remained, stationing herself at the back of the room, monitoring the progress of the baby. Chakotay had finally managed to seat himself in the chair next to the bed. He released her hand and stared with wonder at her swollen belly, stroking it, then looking with glazed eyes at her.

 He couldn't smile, but he was overawed. His mother's face flashed before him and for a moment, Chakotay's eyes became clouded again, and almost, he allowed a sob to escape him. Kathryn's hand crept into his where it had rested on her stomach. With her other hand she cupped his cheek.

 "Tell me how they died, Chakotay," she asked softly.

 He paled, his hand stilling under hers. He wanted to look away, but her hand that had cupped his cheek, gently held him so that he couldn't look away.

 "Tell me..." she said softly.

 "I - " he started.

 "Please..."

 "They died, all of them," he whispered, his voice so low that she strained to hear him.

 "Chakotay, I know what the Cardassians did to many Bajorans..."

 He nodded.

 "They raped the women... m-my mother..." He choked for a second and gave a few sobs. Kathryn pressed his head against her bosom again. When he could find his voice, he raised his head and looked at her. "My father was made to - to watch. They broke every bone in his body, but he was still alive when I found him..."

 Chakotay was still a long time after that, staring pensively at a point on the opposite wall. He gave a deep sigh.

 "We buried them according to their custom. Kathryn, at the - the end, my father, he died peacefully, in my arms..."

 "Chakotay..."

 "It's painful, Kathryn. I see them, all lying dead. I see them all the time. Please..."

 "Remember what your father said, Chakotay?" Kathryn chided gently. When Chakotay shook his head, she gave him a little teary smile, a tender remembrance of the man who guided her through her first vision quest. "He said we should share our pain, for in that sharing, we halve it. When you tell me everything, I take some of your pain and make it mine, my love. Do you understand?"

 "He said that to you?"

 This time she nodded and pulled him closer. He kissed her tenderly.

 "You father said that," she said when she could breathe again. For the first time he smiled, then his face became sober as another sad thought caught him.

 "What is it, Chakotay?"

 "Sedeka...she - "

 Kathryn stilled a moment, then closed her eyes briefly before she braved the look on his face.

 "You don't need to tell me, Chakotay. I know there is a truth. But I don't need to know it, to forgive...You gave me your heart unconditionally; I gave mine, and so will my forgiveness be."

 Chakotay's eyes burned with shame. He fell against her and shuddered, Kathryn holding him close to her. She waited for the sobs to subside, all the time caressing him until he became calm again.

 "It was a plot to get me off Dorvan," he said haltingly. "Sedeka and Gul Evek had planned it from the start."

 And so Chakotay told his Kathryn the truth about what happened on Dorvan. He did not spare himself when he spoke; he was secure in the knowledge that he could trust Kathryn now, and that it was good to allow her to take some of his pain and make it hers. He left nothing out, and even spoke of the time he had tried to make contact with her, and how he felt when she shut him out. He could tell her about the drugs Sedeka used, how it cleverly camouflaged the drink he had taken. He told her how he had taken samples of everything he ate and drank that day and gave it to Sergei to analyse.

 "Sergei knew, Chakotay? Of your innocence?"

 Chakotay's eyes closed.

 "Forgive me, Kathryn."

 "Then it is good he didn't tell me. If I forgave you because Sergei told me of your innocence, it would have been conditional, Chakotay, don't you think?" He was quiet a few seconds. He loved her. She had a heart that was bigger than he ever dreamed. Kathryn continued, "Then it would appear like I took you back only after I heard the truth, instead of acting in faith..."

 He nodded gravely. Yes, he felt better. A wound that festered so long, has finally been cleansed. He gave a deep, shuddering sigh.

 "Kathryn..."

 "Yes?"

 He sighed again.

 "Only one body on Dorvan was unaccounted for."

 "Chakotay...? Is it someone we know?" Kathryn asked.

 Chakotay closed his eyes, the burn behind his eyelids threatening to well into tears.

 "Winonah is missing."

 "Oh, Chakotay..."

 So he told her of Winonah, how they thought that she might have been taken by the Cardassians to a labour camp. He held nothing back, not afraid to show his fear that Winonah might be dead after all. He told her how convinced he was that she was still alive somewhere. She was still so small, and had spoken so much of her Aunt Kathryn who was the captain of a starship... Kathryn made him promise over and over that he should never stop searching for little Winonah who was all alone without her family. Chakotay told her how Sekaya's arms were broken and that he suspected she had held on to her little girl until she couldn't anymore.

 They spoke in soft, comforting tones. Chakotay's voice hardly rose above a whisper, but she could listen to his voice forever. She told him how she loved his letter and how his letter gave her hope. She told him how happy she was with the nursery and the rocking chair he made her. She was happy to be back in their home, and she promised him she wouldn't peep in his bottom drawer to look at her birthday gift.

 Chakotay cried at times and Kathryn consoled, offered him the solace he craved. Sometimes, he lay against her and her hand cradled his head. Chakotay's hand would creep to her stomach and it would rest there as he spoke with his daughter. Kathryn smiled, her face suffused with joy that Chakotay was at last with her. He spoke at times haltingly of how the Federation failed his people and how his father lay in his arms dying. When Sergei wanted to help, Kolopak, who knew that he would not live to see another sun rise, told him he was eager to go.

 "He - he said 'Alive, I am dead without my Hannah', Kathryn."

 "He said that?" she asked softly.

 "Yes, Kolopak said that."

 Elizabeth Paris who had been busy at the computers monitoring the progress of mother and baby, could not hear what Kathryn and Chakotay spoke, but she did not need to hear them talk. It was the way they touched, the way he looked at his wife and the way Kathryn put all of her trust in Chakotay as she looked at him. Elizabeth had seen her patient slide into depression and lose interest in her baby, and now, looking at husband and wife, it was all she could tell her friend Gretchen later: how devoted Chakotay was to his wife, and how Kathryn had forgiven her husband. The two were bathed in the circle of light overhead, while the rest of the room waited. Elizabeth looked up from time to time and sometimes just smiled tenderly. She thought what a good idea it was to give them the hour that Kathryn and Chakotay could talk without the interruption of feeling the pain of her contractions.

 But now, she decided, baby was about to make herself heard and Sergei could come in and help as he promised.

 The painkiller Elizabeth Paris administered, began to wear off and Kathryn could feel the pain of the contractions again. She stirred and gave a little moan. Only then the others returned, with Sergei jovial and Gretchen blasé about such things as giving birth. Chakotay held Kathryn's hand and encouraged her to breathe. Kathryn cried out sometimes, and always when she did, her face was turned to her husband. Kathryn and Chakotay lost track of time as he helped her through the contractions, while Sergei and Elizabeth were kept busy by a little baby who was in a hurry to be born. Chakotay braved Kathryn's cries and the one or two occasions she told him off for being late and putting her in such a situation.

 "Almost there," Sergei cried happily as Hannah crowned.

 "Just hold it there, Kathryn," said Elizabeth, "I tell you when to push..."

 Kathryn held her breath for a few moments before Elizabeth gave the order to push again.

 "Kathryn," came Chakotay's voice to her from afar, it seemed, "our little girl is almost here..."

 "Now, Kathryn, push..."

 Kathryn complied, and seconds later Hannah's plaintive little cry filled the room.

 Kathryn didn't look at her baby in those first moments; her eyes were on her husband. She gave a great sob as Elizabeth gently placed the infant - still with her umbilicus - on her bosom. Kathryn's hands covered the baby's body and Chakotay placed his own large hand softly over Kathryn.

 "Here she is, Chakotay," Kathryn said tremulously, "our little Hannah..." She gave a sob. "Oh, Hannah!" Kathryn cried out and Chakotay knew that Kathryn cried for his mother who died. She wept brokenly and all Chakotay could do, was just hold his wife and baby while Kathryn sobbed her heart out. When finally the crying stopped, he wiped her face while Sergei and Elizabeth took Hannah and cleaned her up.

 "Everything will be fine, Kathryn, don't worry," said Sergei and Chakotay nodded too, squeezing Kathryn's hand. Kathryn's eyes followed Elizabeth as the doctor worked on Hannah, who had become quiet as she was bathed.

 A hand touched Chakotay's shoulder and he looked round to see Gretchen standing behind him. He gave a smile, his eyes swimming with tears.

 "You can take a rest, now, Chakotay. We'll just tend to her here and then she'll go into her ward."

 Chakotay nodded, realising only now how late it was. Kathryn's eyes were already drooping, but she still held on fast to his hand. Reluctantly he let go of her and with a bewildered air he left the room. Outside he was met by Phoebe who looked at him with apprehension in her eyes.

 "Thank you," he told her, "for giving me my little family..."

 "You're welcome, brother..."

 ***

 It was very late and in Kathryn's room it was quiet. Chakotay had been home where he cleaned himself and returned as quickly as he could. Then he spent some time in Dr Paris's office before finally making it into the ward. Hannah lay sleeping in her little bassinet, and just as he had always pictured his little girl. She lay on her back, her head to the side. After Hannah had been bathed and wrapped again in her receiver, Chakotay had held her to Kathryn, who was already sleepy as she took her baby from Chakotay.

 "She looks like you, Chakotay," Kathryn said dreamily.

 "Oh, no, I swear she had the bluest eyes I ever saw."

 "Liar."

 "Very blue, Kathryn. She'll be smart naturally, like her Mommy."

 "Did you count her fingers and toes?"

 "All present," he replied. "But sweetheart, Hannah has a small strawberry mark on her back..."

 "That's okay, Chakotay. But Hannah must have your dimples. I can see her hair is pitch black."

 They had been quiet for a few seconds, then Kathryn touched his tattoo.

 "You went to the Rubber Tree People..."

 He nodded.

 "Your father knew, Chakotay."

 "I know, my love. I know..."

 Chakotay watched his wife and daughter, both sleeping. He felt at peace, but he knew he had work to do. Winonah was still missing. He had to find her. Kathryn made him promise, but he had already made that vow. Very gently Chakotay bent over the little bassinet and pinned the gold broach to Hannah's frilly white bib. It read simply: _Hannah._ He kissed the baby and her skin felt incredibly soft. When he stood back again, he stroked Hannah's downy black hair.

 Chakotay turned to Kathryn who lay on her side, one hand under her chin. He felt his eyes burn. He smoothed her golden strands away from her face, slipped his hand under the pillow as he bent down to kiss her. She gave a little moan at the touch of his lips on her cheek. Chakotay took Kathryn's free hand and placed the orange-peach rose in her hand. Still she didn't wake up at the disturbance.

 For long, long moments he stood watching them. He thought of the eagles Grey Eagle had made them and Kathryn's question.

  _They'll survive, Kathryn._

_And if it breaks?_

_Well, then, Kathryn, we'll just walk through another baptism of fire, won't we?_

Chakotay gave a deep sigh and left the room. Outside, Gretchen Janeway and Phoebe stood. He hugged Gretchen for long moments, and when he held Kathryn's mother away from him, he touched her cheek. Then he turned to Phoebe and drew her into his embrace too.

 "Please," he asked quietly, "take good care of my little family. You're all I have."

 ***

 Kathryn Janeway woke to the sensation that Chakotay was gone.

 Her eyes opened, and lying on her side she could see the rose he placed in her hand. She thought idly that it was just like Chakotay to present her with a peace rose. She gave a tender smile as she lifted herself to place the rose on the bed stand.

 That was when she noticed the paper peeping from under the pillow. She smiled again as she removed the letter, only to find it was not one, but two, each tied individually with a pink satin ribbon. Her name was on the large folded letter.

 Her heart thumped wildly for a few seconds. She looked lovingly at her little daughter sleeping so peacefully before she opened the letter.

  _My dearest Kathryn,_

  _I am leaving. You knew that, didn't you? I love you and I love our little girl. My father's last dying words were: "Alive, I am dead without my Hannah" and I can tell you now, Kathryn, that you mean everything to me and I would surely be walking dead if there had still been the terrible shame of my deeds lying like an unbridgeable chasm between us. I am the luckiest man in the world, did you know? You have given me the most incredible gift, Kathryn. You forgave me, and for that I remain always humbled by your greatness of heart._

_But I must leave. I have resigned from Starfleet at the same time that Admiral Paris pinned the fourth pip on my collar. I cannot do otherwise, Kathryn. My people died and they were innocent. They will not be the only ones whose lives will be sacrificed in this war. Many more will die and they will be the innocent men, women and children who will be the casualties of war. The Federation has betrayed many people, and most feel that it has not done enough to secure the safety of those who had once been part of this world._

_I must go out there and help those who will lose their freedom, Kathryn. I will be joining the many who have already pledged their help to fight a worthy cause. You know what happened on my world to our women, my love. If I can save one woman from such a terrible ordeal as my mother and my sister and very many other women suffered, then I know I have done something worthy._

_In my heart I know that I am doing the right thing and even though I will be away from you, I know that this time, you will live with the knowledge that I will return to you, that my love for you remains as strong as always and that the very thought of you with our little girl will keep me going._

_I know what I almost lost through one stupid act of indiscretion, and therefore I can never be complacent about our union, Kathryn. Our marriage was tested and almost, we didn't survive. But I can tell you this. I am much stronger now and I know implicitly, that you are too. We were in love, so much, that we couldn't see the dangers and we - I, mostly - were arrogant enough to imagine that it could never happen to us. 1t did and I almost lost the two most precious persons in the world._

_I don't know how long I will be away, Kathryn. Your mother and Phoebe have pledged to take good care of you for me, and I know they will! You are now the only family I have left in the world. I must also find our missing niece and bring her home to us, Kathryn. Who knows what terror she suffered watching her parents die? She is all alone out there, and I must make it my mission to find her so that with us she will have a home and a loving family again._

_I love you. I love our beautiful little girl who is already as feisty as her mother. One day I shall return to you again, Kathryn. I swear it in the name of my father and mother and brothers and sister who died in the name of freedom._

_I am always and forever,_

_Your loving_

_Chakotay._

_***_

END CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

 

**THE END OF BOOK THREE: ABYSS**

 

**BOOK FOUR: MAQUIS to follow soon**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes Book three.
> 
> Next book BOOK FOUR: MAQUIS


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What we have read so far:  
> Kathryn and Chakotay marry. He commits an act of adultery and they separate.  
> Meanwhile Sedeka tries everything in her power to hold on to Chakotay who succesfully manages to play the same trick on her.  
> The planet Dorvan is under attack and all inhabitants killed, except one sole survivor, the young Winonah, is sister's little girl.  
> Chakotay take the tattoo of the Rubber Tree People. He resigns form Starfleet but retains his rank as 'Captain'.   
> Kathryn gives birth [on Chakotay's birthday] and the two of them reconcile at last.  
> Then Chakotay leaves while his wife and baby girl lie sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continue to BOOK 4: MAQUIS
> 
> This book continues Chakotay's adventure as the Maquis cell leader.

* * *

* * *

 

**CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE**

**March 2371 - Near the Demilitarised Zone, Sector 469**

The man strode with great purpose down a darkened alley. The only illumination came from a weak moon that threw more shadows than light. He was tall, and the camel-coloured jacket he wore fit snugly to his large frame so that his muscles strained against it as he swung his arms. The jacket was tied at the waist by a broad belt. The only adornment was a dagger - a Klingon d'k tahg - attached at the side in its sheath and a phaser. He wore knee high dark brown boots, each tightened at the calf by two buckled straps.

Chakotay made his way towards the inn at the end of the alley. He rubbed his hands together and his breath steamed as he exhaled. The cold seeped into him and he wanted to get inside some place warm at least. He hoped it was the right place Dalby had given. The whole area had a seedy, run-down look about it, but he figured if someone wanted to hide, this would be a good place to come. Located near the Cardassian border, the planet was too small to be important to the Cardassians. Formerly uninhabited, it attracted mostly groups or bands of dissidents from all corners of the sector. Chakotay gave a mental shrug at the thought of 'corners' of the sector. He had been sent on a wild goose chase one too many times, but the Liberty needed crew, and that motor-mouth Dalby was eager enough to point him to Prema Copa. It hadn't been easy getting to this planet. He had been chased halfway across two sectors by a Cardassian vessel, and luckily, his own experience and wealth of evasive maneuvers won out as he successfully managed to elude the Cardassians.

Getting back to the Badlands was going to be tricky, but once he found what he was looking for, it would make things easier. He had been on the run since he left Starfleet and teamed up with another Starfleet dissident before trading the small flitter they had for a larger vessel that could take a crew of forty five. He needed the best, and though Dalby was good, he was better at intelligence and Chakotay needed a better than passable engineer to have the Liberty up and running smoothly on an hourly basis.

Chakotay snorted. The Liberty was a collection of spare parts - an old converted Romulan hull with jerry-rigged Federation engine, running on mostly old and some new Federation communications signals. The Liberty was good for a few years and he needed to extend its life before its bulkheads collapsed spontaneously. He needed to cloak his signals so that it looked neither Federation nor anything else, especially something the Cardassians could pick up. The Cardassians were after him; the Federation wanted him and he needed to stay out of their way. Ken Dalby may be disgruntled, but he had been grudging about the contact he suggested to Chakotay. Dalby had rubbed his jaw idly when he recommended the new contact, who still had to be recruited. Dalby or someone Dalby knew must have had a run-in with the individual.

"The best damned engineer you could have, Chakotay. Torres spend some time at Starfleet..."

"And no doubt you got licked by Torres..." Chakotay had added two days ago when the Liberty's engines stalled and they were dead in the water for hours. Dalby had given a shrug and smirked, something that caused Chakotay to frown, promised to follow up, then forgot it as soon as the pressing problem of engines and communications made itself felt as they faced off the potential threat of a lone bounty hunter after his blood.

They needed crew and they needed them in dedicated areas such as engineering and medical technology. What they had was emergency field medics who could only do so much. Not only that. They needed medical supplies and that was even more critical.

Chakotay gave another shrug. With the war now on, many dissidents joined their organization, now officially branded by the Federation as traitors and renegades; most of the 'traitors and rebels' were former colonists along the Cardassian border whose homes and planets had been destroyed. Some, like himself, were former Starfleet officers...

Others, like that smart-mouthed Tom Paris needed to be booted out of their organization. Paris was a no-cause rebel, good only for the number of latinum bars he could trade for his services as a pilot. Chakotay knew of Tom Paris's disgrace from Starfleet, and his presence in the Maquis made him unstable given his proclivity for high-risk maneuvers borne out of his swaggering arrogant belief that he was the best pilot in the Alpha Quadrant. Tom Paris _was_ the best pilot he could get, but Chakotay bristled at the man's attitude and womanising. The man had a job to do and had to do it well. Chakotay sighed. He wondered just how long Tom Paris would last before getting bored of principles and ethics and moral obligations.

Kathryn would have sorted Tom Paris out, given the chance. He knew Tom's parents well, and thought there was not a thing in the universe that couldn't be dealt with and sorted out and talked through. Kathryn had taught him that. He hadn't had much of anything with his own father, the spirits be with him, but Kathryn had shown him that pride was just another stupid hurdle that could be overcome. He had done that and had not been sorry. Tom Paris was just about the sorriest individual who didn't give his father a chance to speak and to voice his own feelings towards his son, however difficult that appeared to be. Paris could be good if he wanted to be. Chakotay had little time for individuals like Paris who had talent and who wasted it. Now, all _he_ wanted to do, was knock the helmsman down in the first round in Boothby's gym and keep him knocked out. The man needed sense.

Chakotay's ears pricked as he heard sounds coming from the end of the alley. He surmised it was probably from the inn. He quickened his pace, his hand already on his phaser, the other hand hovering near his dagger as he ran. He wasn't going to use his phaser if he needed to defend himself; he had been careful about leaving trails from phaser fire. Still, he prepared himself as he hurried towards a shaft of weak light that filtered through a window.

Chakotay stopped short as he heard voices and a scream. The door was half open and he pushed it further open. The tavern was dark, lit by two or three lights, one of them near the bar, and Chakotay could only discern the shadowy patrons by the way they craned their necks or moved up from their seats to look at whatever was happening. In the far corner he saw the scuffle and heard another scream. Then one body hurtled towards him. Chakotay jumped neatly out of the way as the body thudded against the wall and slid slowly down until the man sat, unconscious, his torso pitching far forward so that his forehead touched his knees. Chakotay's laugh stalled in his throat as another scream made him rush forward. Someone was down on the floor, and five or six men were all over the hapless individual.

He had little time to assimilate the fact that the unfortunate wall victim was Cardassian or that the screams came from a woman. He pulled the first Cardassian away from the group with one hand, his fist connecting with the man's jaw. A loud crack, and the Cardassian sank to his knees. Chakotay's boot connected with the man's throat and a crack sounded in the tavern as his neck snapped. One Cardassian had the woman down, her legs spread as he forced himself on her. She screamed again. Before he could pull the man off her, a stiff arm squeezed the air from him; fingers gripped Chakotay's neck. He shrugged his opponent away, the Cardassian looking perplexed as he clutched his stomach a second later, blood oozing between his fingers. Not looking at him, Chakotay turned quickly to grab the Cardassian on top of the woman. Blood spurted over them as Chakotay, in one swift movement, slit the man's throat. He tore Cardassian away from the woman. The attacker fell one side, his body convulsing grotesquely. The woman rose to her feet, but Chakotay felt another hand clamp round his neck as he reached for her. He swivelled instantly, taking the Cardassian by surprise so that he lost his grip on Chakotay's neck. The Cardassian stared drunkenly at him and made a muffled sound as Chakotay lunged and twisted his d'k tahg in the man's belly. Dark eyes gleamed angrily as Chakotay watched his attacker's eyes widen; he made a gurgling sound as he gaped. He pulled the dagger from the Cardassian's belly and a moment later the man sank to his knees, blood already oozing from his mouth and the wound in his stomach. Two more Cardassians charged and his fist connected with a jaw while he kicked at the other, managing only to push the soldier about two metres away from him. The woman, Chakotay noted in his peripheral vision, pushed one aggressor away from her. She gave a primal scream as the man flew across the floor.

"P'taQ!"

"I'm here to help," Chakotay shouted at her as a thick-necked soldier lunged at him with a knife. His hand moved swiftly and in the next instant lodged his dagger in the Cardassian's chest. A knife clanked to the floor as the attacker let go of his weapon before slowly going down.

"I can see to myself," the woman shouted back as she waded into another attacker and sent him flying.

"You're naked, woman. That's sure taking care of yourself," Chakotay shouted back as he caught another attacker close to her. Looking the Cardassian in the eyes, he gave an angry cry as he grabbed a clump of hair and pulled the man's head back. The grating sound of a knife cutting into bone could be heard as Cardassian's throat was slit. The attacker thudded to the floor, his body tilting forward into a sitting potision, blood spurting over the floor. Somewhere Chakotay heard a patron applaud...

He stood breathing hard as he realised that all the attackers were finished off. They were drunk and it had given him an advantage over them. Only then he turned his attention to the woman who stood panting against the wall. He shook his head. The woman was small. Her appearance was Klingon. She looked completely dishevelled, bloodied and on the point of tears. Her clothes were torn from her body, and blood oozed from open wounds on her forehead and gashes to her breasts and legs. For one moment, in a blinding flash, Chakotay saw his sister as she must have appeared in her last moments. He saw his mother, helpless against seven Cardassians. He saw his father, forced to watch...

His rage, already near boiling point at the way the Cardassians cornered their victim like rutting dogs, boiled over. He rushed to her; she backed against the wall, but hissed nonetheless at him.

"You had better explain how you got to be alone in this filthy den of Cardies," Chakotay spat before he sheathed his dagger and untied the belt around his waist...

She screamed again.

He grabbed her shoulders and another scream followed. Chakotay froze a second, then relented as he realised what she had been thinking.

"I won't harm you," he said quickly as he took his jacket off and pulled it around her. The other patrons in the tavern had come to life and went on casually as if nothing happened in the last minutes. Chakotay shook his head at the manner in which they panted and watched a woman being violated. He felt the bile rising in him, but forced himself to breathe to regain his equilibrium and temporarily shut out his outrage at their behaviour. A few shady figures moved silently about and removed the bodies as Chakotay pulled the woman close to him. He half pulled and pushed her towards the exit of the inn.

"Come, we must hurry. You need help," he commanded as the woman stumbled. Chakotay clicked impatiently then practically ran down the alley with her, pulling her along. "They've seen me."

"You killed five men in there," he heard her voice, now sounding a little stronger. Somehow, during her struggles she had lost her shoes and once cried out as she stepped onto a sharp object. "Damn," Chakotay said, his irritation clear in his voice. "I should have had a my site-to-site transporter."

"You killed five men in there," she repeated. "Who are you?"

"No matter. Get moving! I already busted my chances of getting my contact - "

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"I'm looking for someone called Torres. You know him by any chance? What the hell were you doing in there anyway?" Chakotay asked again without answering her, half pulling her off her feet as he neared the small shuttle - hardly bigger than a life pod - and opened its hatch. He bundled her inside quickly and minutes later they took off.

Once clear of the planet's orbit, only then Chakotay turned to the woman. He stepped closer and swore as she pulled his jacket closer round her. The blood to her head wound had congealed, but the deep scratches down her cheek looked raw. Her lips had a bluish tinge from the cold and she shivered violently. Her eyes shifted a little nervously, but not before he saw the angry fire in them. He reached to touch her, and swore again when she flinched. Giving a sigh he sat back on the small bunk, about a metre away from her.

"They got to you?" he asked quietly, his voice suddenly gentle, laced with compassion. He saw her blink once, twice, before a large tear rolled down a bloodied cheek. She tried to brush the dampness away and flinched when she touched the long gash in her cheek. "I won't harm you," he added softly when he saw her reluctance to reply. Her eyes closed as she nodded.

"Only one... "

"One is one too many," he bit out, suddenly angry at her and wondering why he put his question in that way in the first place. Of course he had seen at least one Cardassian rutting over her. Maybe one raped her before he entered the tavern, judging by the severity of her injuries. Perhaps she was too ashamed to admit there could have been more.

She didn't respond and Chakotay moved instead to the tiny aft section and returned with a med-kit.

"Not the best in the circumstances, but it will do," he said as he removed a dermal regenerator. "Courtesy the Federation via Miss Yates," he added laconically when he saw her frown. He held her head, ignored her when she started up again as if he were going to attack her too. She growled all the time he ran the regenerator over the gash on her forehead and cheek. When that was cleared, he indicated she remove his jacket.

"No..." she said quickly, wrapping the garment tighter around her.

He sighed with impatience. He could yank the jacket off, but that would level him with her attackers and she could scream again as if he were going to violate her. Very gently he lifted her chin and made her look at him.

"I won't hurt you..."

He realised she was ashamed for she looked quickly away the moment he removed his finger from her chin. A frown marring her ridged forehead caused him to give another impatient click as he pressed her back to lie on the bunk. She turned her face away from him, looking instead at the bulkhead. She was in pain, but never cried out. He took the jacket away from her. The earlier uncensored view he had of her body when he pulled the last Cardassian from her was perhaps blurred by his anger and urgency to get them away from her. Cuts to her breasts and stomach and thighs that seemed superficial were...

"God Almighty..." he whispered. The woman gave a small cry. "It's alright. I'll do what I can," he assured softly.

The next few minutes Chakotay repaired a broken rib, deep cuts, long gashes to her breasts, her neck, her hips, thighs, inner thighs. He pursed his lips, tried to blank out the way his mother and sister looked, and just carried on repairing damage. She said one Cardassian got to her...just one. Impossible. The others must have held her down and she must have fought them like a tigress. She was Klingon - perhaps half Klingon - and he knew what strength Klingons possessed. She night have taken on a lone attacker, perhaps two or three, but six, seven... The woman lay still all the time he worked. There was no time for embarrassment or prudishness and when he was done, he made her sit up again and pulled the jacket round her shoulders. Then he moved to the aft section again and rummaged around in a cabinet.

"Here, clean yourself and put this on. It should do until we get to the Liberty..." She took the clothes from him. It was make-shift covering - a coarse fabric that was more functional than decorative. He sat at the conn and waited until she was dressed before he turned to face her again. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded.

"You killed five Cardassians," she said again, now looking him fearlessly in the eyes.

"They're scum, and you know that...now," came his curt reply.

"Yes..." she sighed. "I - didn't think they would attack me..."

"Forgive me for stating the obvious, but you were a woman alone, and no matter how much you think you could defend yourself, you're no match when a pack of dogs attack you. Besides, they smelled you..." His voice sounded a little unkind when he said that, but he remembered with bitterness the way Sedeka conquered him.

"I was with two friends. They left early. Those Cardassians...they were drunk. I thought I had everything under control..." She paused, looked him in they eyes again. Her face still appeared smudged and she fidgeted with her hands, twisting the fabric between two fingers. "You saved my life. Thank you. If you hadn't arrived... I - I was looking for - "

"And I came looking for Torres," he cut in, sensing she was about to direct blame at herself. "You know him by any chance, seeing you were in the same tavern I was told I could get hold of him?"

She gave a tight little smile, her first since he dragged her away from her attackers.

"I am Torres. B'Elanna Torres."

Chakotay blinked once, then recovered.

"B'Elanna Torres, Klingon - "

"B'Elanna Torres, half Klingon half-breed human - "

"What?"

"That's what those scum called me. Said I'm only good enough to...to - "

"Torres, B'Elanna, former Starfleet cadet, engineer who will work wonders with a decrepit 37 year old engine. Dalby said I could get you here. Good. I need an engineer, the best. He said you're the best. His word is good."

Chakotay's look challenged her, dared her to refute his claim or return to her self-deprecating view of how the Cardassians looked at her and treated her. He had no time for lapses into morbid self-pity, although he had no words for what happened to her. All he could see was someone helpless against an overpowering might, a cowardly act as if she herself as a Klingon had stabbed someone when his back was turned. He knew the proud tradition of Klingon martial arts and the Klingon abhorrence of cowardly acts.

"Dalby lied."

"We'll see about that once you see the Liberty."

"Liberty?"

"My vessel. We're on our way there. You can look, then leave, if you want. But I'll make it very difficult for you to leave, if you can get the Liberty up and running again."

"I - "

Chakotay wanted to touch her chin again, saw how she moved imperceptibly away from his hand and he dropped it to his side. B'Elanna Torres looked fierce - embarrassed and fierce. He had seen her vulnerable and she was very clearly sending out signals to the contrary. She didn't want to be seen like that. He doubted whether anyone would see her lose control again. If she did, she'd probably make those on the receiving end believe it was the Klingon part of her that was responsible. A safety net if ever there was one in Torres's life.

"I have nowhere else to go," B'Elanna said softly, the words breaking reluctantly from her lips.

Chakotay understood and nodded.

"Fine. You can remain on the Liberty."

"Who are you?" she asked at last.

Chakotay stared at her and only then realised that he never introduced himself. Still, when he did speak, he felt stiff, the urge to smile dying as an image of his father flashed before him. He was quiet for several seconds in which B'Elanna stared at him, waiting.

"I'm Chakotay," he bit out at last.

***

B'Elanna Torres was bent in an unflattering position under the panel that housed the plasma conduit in the engine room of the Liberty. She cursed something in Klingon, then threw the wrench down in disgust. She fumed for a few seconds before picking up the tool again and resumed her work.

"Damned ancient pirate parts," she muttered as she tried to find something that could inject life into the engines again. "Where in the name of Kahless did he get this piece of junk?" She hit the conduit again. "Dammit!"

"You're talking to me?" a voice sounded from the narrow space between her, the warp core and the owner of the voice.

"Shut up, Ayala, and leave me to curse on my own."

"Not when you do it so nicely, Torres."

"What does he think? I can perform magic around here?"

"Torres, you came on the good recommendation of Ken Dalby, no less."

"Dalby, huh. I knew him once. The Cardassians - " She wanted to tell Ayala how the Cardassians raped Dalby's wife, but kept her mouth shut. Her own treatment at their hands made it something deeply private, and Dalby would appreciate her silence. Contrary to what Chakotay assured her, she should have listened to her inner voice. She had known the Cardassians... She shut her mind away from what happened to her. Dalby hated the Cardassians and Ayala seemed to be aware of Dalby's hatred. Word had spread quickly. She gave a little sigh. Chakotay would honour the privacy of her ordeal, she knew. Her memories and her nightmares were her own.

Ayala peered at her with his body upside-down. He looked ridiculous. She wanted to laugh if it weren't that the plasma conduit wasn't listening to her. Ayala pointed a finger at her.

"Then you know, Torres, Dalby is no fool. He's angry, very angry; he hurts like the devil, but he knows a good engineer when he knows one," Ayala replied in a placatory tone. "You've been good to the engines the last week, Torres. The Boss likes it." Then suddenly Ayala's face disappeared but B'Elanna could only see his feet.

"Chakotay? He's never satisfied, Ayala," she replied curtly, her voice laced with a mixture of awe and impatience. She hit the hapless conduit again and the console suddenly lit up. "Well, what do you know..." she exclaimed, her eyes suddenly gleaming with pleasure. She crawled out of her hole, stood up and looked at Ayala. He gave her a grin.

"See? Master Magician you are. Now, can we get this vessel to Alkorea?"

"Alkorea?"

"The other side of the Badlands..."

"We have to navigate through plasma turbulences?"

"We have the pilot to do that."

"Paris. Oh. Yeah." B'Elanna's response was dour this time and she almost hit the console again, her hand pausing in mid-air as she restrained herself.

"Yeah, Paris. The Boss isn't too in love with that one, either."

"I know. Chakotay can be inflexible. Just leave it to me. I'll kick the snot out of that Paris."

"But you gotta give it to him. He's good, Torres. Very good."

"P'taQ!"

After which Ayala had left the engine room and B'Elanna was glad. She wanted to work alone, mostly. Ayala probably didn't hear her last expletive. She continued mending, her labour often accompanied by choice curses in Klingon. She had been rescued by Chakotay only a week ago, and still didn't know how to thank him properly for what he had done. It could have been much worse, she realised, if he hadn't happen upon them at that moment. She gave a shudder at the memory of how her body protested as the Cardassians forced themselves into her. She hadn't wanted to admit to him that three of them raped her, but she knew that he sensed it anyway. Even through the trauma of what had happened to her, Chakotay's eyes bore a certain knowledge from somewhere deep, somewhere no one dared to intrude. A soft cry was the only sound she made before ruthlessly expelling the images from her.

What if Chakotay hadn't arrived at that moment? How long would her ordeal have lasted, with seedy looking patrons looking on and cheering?  She gave another violent shudder at the thought of what could have happened. There had been seven or eight Cardassians who entered the tavern. Swaggering, loud-mouthed, they drank too much and she had thought... B'Elanna gave a sigh. Why did she challenge the one who called her a half-breed the moment he saw her? Why didn't she leave with her two acquaintances when they left the minute they saw the Cardassians? Why?

She had nowhere to go. She was a drifter, like her so-called friends were. After the tavern, she would have gone to their abode and ask to stay the night. She would have travelled with her last few credits to another world where she could find some work. She had heard on Vulcan they didn't turn away young scientists. She couldn't go back to Kronos, or to Kessik IV. She hadn't spoken with her mother in years.

Then Chakotay came.

He was a contrary blend of kindness and aggression. One moment his face could turn soft and the next, the planes were hard, edged, a perpetual frown marring the smooth lines of his tattoo. B'Elanna gave a shiver as she thought of how the Cardassians lay dead around them, with Chakotay hardly blinking when he slit their throats. She had felled holographic foes in the holosuites at the Academy the two years she had been there, but it was never the same. The holosuites and holographic fighting, even with the safeties off, still tended to lull one into a plane of the consciousness where she knew she was still safe, and her conscience would not be touched if she killed one or two Klingons or Cardassians, even accidentally.

Funny thing, illusion and reality. She'd often heard of women violated, killed, but in a certain way she remained detached from it, her empathy only mildly stirred since it didn't happen to her or someone close to her. Now, she experienced the horror of the reality and reality meant nightmares and memories that she doubted would ever be erased. Was fighting someone to the death in a holosuite not the same? Somehow, felling a holographic attacker - preferably a Cardassian - did leave her with a feeling that it wasn't real, that the moment she stepped outside, she could conveniently forget it.

Chakotay had killed her attackers in cold blood. It was real, horribly real. She had never seen something like that. The reality - their severed necks, their blood, her pain, her blood, caused her to wake up in a sweat in the middle of the night, praying for release from her tormenting dreams. Chakotay had calmly hauled her away from the scene before anyone stirred to stop him. That had been the strange thing about that wine house. The patrons had done nothing to stop what was happening, and now, thinking about it, she could even hear how they cheered. She growled her disgust at that thought. With hindsight she knew that she had been stupid to taunt the first of the Cardassians who sauntered into the pub and insulted her.

B'Elanna gave a sigh. She had almost finished cleaning up. She was pleased with her work. The Liberty's engines would be good for another three years, no more. Then Chakotay would have to find himself another derelict floating about in space and harvest its body parts to build a new vessel. What would he call it then? The Bald Eagle?

Who was Chakotay? Who was the fierce, mostly scowling Native American of whom his crew stood slightly in awe? On her second day on the Liberty she had seen him deck Chell with one blow. Chakotay smiled little, barked orders most of the time and never seemed to have time to relax. She had not seen much of him since she came on board, and if he didn't work somewhere on the vessel, he was secluded in his cabin. Ayala had been the first to tell her that Chakotay liked his privacy and never liked being disturbed. Dalby remained non-communicative on that score and Chell babbled about Chakotay doing strange things, like visit his father in a vision quest, or being in deep meditation.

The first day she had been taken into a small cabin that had, mercifully, a replicator. Before she had any time to comment on it, she half knew Chakotay was going to say "courtesy the Federation". She wasn't supposed to ask where he got it, or how. "Essentials" was the word Chakotay used when he ordered her roughly to replicate herself some clothes, after which he would disable the replicator in order to conserve energy.

"Come to my office when you're done."

She had given a little snort. She was still feeling sore after her ordeal and she'd needed a shower badly. A violent shiver which she couldn't stop, made Chakotay stop in his tracks. He had given her a long, hard look, then turned round to leave her small cabin.

In his office she stood at attention and it was the first thing he barked at her. He hadn't even given her a second look to appraise the outfit she was wearing. She was just Torres to him.

"At ease, Torres. This is the Maquis, not Starfleet."

She relaxed only slightly.

"I want to thank you - "

"Don’t thank me yet, " he cut in.

Chakotay looked down on the PADD, and she gave a mental shrug. The Maquis with equipment most likely stolen from the Federation and other races. She had heard of the Maquis, and now she found herself in the presence of one of its cell leaders, saved from certain death and degradation by him. When he faced her again, she shrank from the aggression in his eyes. Why did he have to look so as if he would drive a d'k tahg through her chest? She was comforted, however, by the fact that she sensed his aggression was not directed at her, but something else. There had to be some deep-rooted hatred of Cardassians that he could kill them so mercilessly.

"The engine of this vessel is old, but you can make it work, Torres. I need an engineer; I'll make no bones about that. You've indicated you have nowhere else to go, so consider this your home..."

Chakotay didn't have to tell her whether he meant the Liberty or the Maquis. Whichever way she looked at it, the Liberty was the Maquis and for her, the Maquis meant the Liberty. They were fighting for freedom, weren't they? She could empathise, since she'd been roaming about the sectors, making friends here and there and hearing tales of how people were dispossessed, oppressed, and subjugated with force.

"Then I will nurse your engines - "

"They're yours now, Torres," he said bluntly. "Make no mistake, we need to get in, get out, as fast as we can and as stealthily."

"I know. I won't not disappoint you, Chakotay." It was the first time she had said his name, the syllables falling clumsily from her.

"Good. First order of business, get the vessel up and running."

"It may take a few days - "

"Make it two. We have to leave then. We can't hide in here forever."

It was the first thing she had noticed when he piloted the tiny shuttle towards a plasma cloud. It looked like a puff - soft in various shades of pink. She had had no time after that to wonder whether it possessed properties that could destroy them. Her trust, after first fearing that he too might attack her in the tavern, had been instinctive. She had given him a nod, then stole a glance at the small photographs on his desk. He noticed how she looked, then said quickly "dismissed".

She had turned on her heel and left, proceeding towards the bridge where she sat at a console and studied the specs of the vessel Liberty. It wasn't a sleek starship like the Enterprise or the Melbourne or any of Starfleet's class vessels, but the Liberty was small and very manoeuvrable. The only fly in the ointment was its pilot, whom she disliked on sight it seemed to her, when he gave her a look that all but made her want to remain behind the mask of her Klingon scowl. Almost at the first, when Chakotay had introduced her to Tom Paris, she sensed the cell leader's dislike of the pilot.

B'Elanna thought of the photographs she had seen on Chakotay's desk. He had quickly dismissed her, but not before she had seen the softness in his eyes which had quickly been replaced by the old hard glint. A beautiful woman graced one photograph. A woman with long, bronze hair and a smile that turned up at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were blue-grey. She wore a blue dress. B'Elanna had shaken her head. She couldn't reconcile Chakotay who killed her attackers and looked like he could drive a dagger through Tom Paris's throat, with the man whose whole face had softened when he looked at the woman in the picture. The other picture was smaller, the subject a little blurred, but B'Elanna could see it was a baby - a very, very tiny infant, probably just born, or something.

So Chakotay was human after all. Barely hours after she reported for duty she had heard stories that he was married, but even Tom Paris, who knew him through his parents, didn't talk much. Were the pictures then of Chakotay's wife and daughter? It had to be. She couldn't dismiss the softness of his gaze when he looked at the face of the woman. There were many stories floating about, but she was still too new in the cell to make anything of it, or to discern what was truth and what was fabrication. It was quite possible as it went with rumours and word-of-mouth accounts, that little tails could be added to the fascinating tales surrounding one very angry looking Maquis leader.

Her heart gave a sudden lurch as she pictured Chakotay with that steely glint in his eyes. She would, if the situation called, like it happened that night in the tavern, probably kill in self-defence, for self-preservation and survival. She knew that she'd be blindingly angry as she imagined severing a Cardassian's head with her bat-leth. She knew that her anger would have justification, like Chakotay's aggression, probably, and therefore her action would have been borne out of the extreme reluctance to kill, but also the need to survive.

Chakotay didn't look so much angry as he looked driven, with a particular precision and such calculating intention when he struck those Cardassians down. What was his agenda? she wondered. He didn't happen to be in that tavern by chance, but his presence had been as if Kahless himself had ordered Chakotay to come in and help one of his warriors who was attacked in cowardly fashion. The manner in which Chakotay killed them, she could only afterwards wonder, when her first nightmare struck and she had woken up in the night gasping painfully, that he must surely hate them with a deep revulsion that was to her inexplicable.

She had given a sigh then. Chakotay had been nonchalant about his behaviour in the tavern, not wanting his actions to be broadcast; he played his own part down heavily, and told everyone on board that he found his contact. He had even joked - the smile was absent when he did so - about thinking he had to look for a man such as Ken Dalby led him to believe.

That day, after she had completed her ablutions, she started immediately on learning the specs of the Liberty; it hadn't been necessary for Chakotay to tell her when to start. She had done so out of her own volition and intention, wanting to put in that way, the terror of her attack behind her. B'Elanna had scrolled down the information of the Liberty's specs, all the time thinking of the look on Chakotay's face when he glanced at the woman in the photo. She couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that Chakotay had a softer side to him. It may be his weakness, ultimately, given the subversive nature of their work on the Liberty.

That had been a week ago. She liked working with him, working on this vessel that challenged her to be creative. She acknowledged the nobility of the work they did. Already, she knew that Chakotay had a strict dictum: they were never to attack any Federation vessel or any Starfleet officer or Federation official. He was adamant about that, yet their work entailed that they foil the Federation into parting with medical supplies, technology, even recruit from Starfleet men and woman who sympathised with their cause and whose expertise were valuable. Whatever else Chakotay had on his plate, he kept it strictly close to his chest. She had no idea what it was, and at this point, didn't think much of it. It probably had to do with the woman in the picture.

She got to know the crew, and liked Henley and Dalby from the start. Only Tom Paris seemed to rub her up the wrong way. He smirked altogether too much. A pig, if ever she saw one. He had taken one look at her and said something about making bets on when he'll see the real Klingon in her surface... If Chakotay hadn't been in the vicinity, she'd have knotted Tom Paris into a ball and kicked the snot out of him. But, she sighed, she needed a home, and to make enemies when they had to work so closely together, was a chance she didn't want to take. They had to learn to get along, just as long as Tom Paris didn't pry. Already she heard from the others that three officers died while he was at the helm of a vessel and got booted out of Starfleet for lying about it, and telling the truth afterwards. Still, that didn't endear him to her. He was nothing if not totally arrogant and snotty, like he couldn't learn from his mistakes or mature at least. Maybe he was hiding something, but right now she didn't care. Good thing he was away with Dalby and Henley on a mission. There'd at least be a few more hours before they returned, and she craved the short respite. The man just plain frayed her already jagged nerves.

She had worked tirelessly those first few days, with a new-found purpose to her life; she was driven to finish the work in the time Chakotay had challenged her, and she had done better than that. Oh, it did take working in double and triple shifts, but those few days it was all she could do to see him give one of his very rare smiles when she told him the Liberty could move again at warp five. Not only that, she had improved and made adjustments to its navigational array so that the ship could manoeuvre better than before - she had to take Ayala's word for it - in the Badlands with its turbulence and wave displacements. They were currently hidden in another cloud in a remote star system of Sector 469, and were waiting for Paris, Dalby and Mariah Henley to report and bring in the supplies they needed before heading for Alkorea where - so Ayala had informed her - they had set up a refugee camp of former colonists in the DMZ.

B'Elanna was tired; she made her way to her cabin and when she fell down on her bunk, she gave a long yawn and stretched languorously. Her shift of almost eighteen hours was over. Now she could lie back and just close her eyes and fall asleep on a positive thought. She thrived on pressure, relished her new tasks, talked to her warp core and built a relationship with it in the few short days she had been on the Liberty. Now, as Chakotay predicted, the warp core was hers. B'Elanna gave a tired, happy sigh. She was beginning to love it here on the Liberty

Positive thoughts...

It was an image of Tom Paris she saw last before the swirling eddies of sleep overtook her and she tumbled into a slumber.

**

Chakotay fumed.

Most of the time in the last two weeks he was either angry or concerned. He hadn't had any relief from those two emotions except when Torres looked at him with grateful eyes and thanked him for saving her life. That had been the only light in the constant dark avenues he had been walking in during the last three months. He still couldn't trace Winonah, although he had put Morrison, Suder and Dalby on the case. He gave a sigh. Although his niece was high on his priority list, he had been swamped by his monumental task of recruiting and fighting, becoming so caught up in his activities that he could only, when he had precious downtime, strategise on a plan to find her. His failure only made him more frustrated and the only comfort was the look of gratitude on the faces of those men, women and children who had been dispossessed by both the Cardassians and the Federation and taken by him to safe havens until the war was over.

It didn't bring Winonah back. He believed implicitly she was alive somewhere. If only he had time to initiate a thorough search for her. He gave a grunt of displeasure. The best Vorik, Suder and Dalby could do, was supply him with an extensive list of contacts, links, sectors, and even planets where she might  have been taken. What they had searched, proved fruitless. The most obvious places like orphan colonies and labour camps led to dead ends. The locket he had given Winonah was lost too. Who knows, some Cardie... Chakotay shuddered. He tried to picture the five year old little girl, then closed his eyes suddenly. What he saw was extreme fear on Winonah's face. He had managed to shut out images that haunted him constantly in the first month after his family died, and giving in to picture a smiling, yet shy and diffident Winonah who seemed to come to life whenever she looked at Kathryn, caused the wound of his grief to open and bleed again. Hannah was going to look like Winonah, he realised suddenly when he pictured his own little girl lying in Kathryn's arms.

Giving a sigh of relief that his violent thoughts and frustration and anger were slowly edged out by something more comforting, he thought of the total surprise and secrecy with which Admiral Paris had sent him an update of Kathryn and Hannah's progress. It was only on his own personal vidcom in his cabin that he kept those images of them encrypted, hidden under a plethora of false signals and cloaked with a Ktarian array so that it could never be accessed. He remained in his cabin a full morning just looking at Kathryn's face, and marvelling at how much Hannah had grown in three short months. It had taken him a whole day's programming to find a way that his personal files would be deleted the second an enemy tried to access classified information. There were things there that could mean death to him if they found it.

Hannah at three months had a shock of pitch black hair, his colouring, dimples that made him want to cry and her mother's eyes. Hannah looked so much like Winonah from the pictures Sekaya had shown them of Winonah as a baby, the two girls could very well be mistaken for sisters.

If only they could find Winonah.

But right now, the Cardassians were the most invasive threat.

The Cardassian stronghold they detected a week ago on the perimeter of the Demilitarised Zone had been the best lead they had had in months. While other Maquis cells were elsewhere engaged, he had to ferret out the whereabouts of smaller bands of Cardassian corps that could surprise the unsuspecting in this war, even the Federation. The Federation didn't know about it, of that Chakotay was convinced. There were a whole lot of strongholds of arms caches the Federation didn't know about. Chakotay shook his head. Finding the elusive arms and disabling the phaser banks of the mighty Cardassian war ships couldn't be done through by-the-book methods. It couldn't be done the Starfleet way of rigid discipline and protocol and order. There were no rules. The Maquis way was to engage in guerrilla type warfare that baffled the Cardassians and confounded the Federation. It was why the Maquis was sitting on information the Federation could just drool over. Still, the Maquis couldn't vanquish the Cardassians on their own, so in a backhanded way, the Maquis were helping the Federation.

If only the like of Hays and Nechayev could understand it that way. They had put a price on his head - that information courtesy secret subspace encrypted message by Admirals Paris and Ponsonby - and thought only of the glory of routing the Maquis. His only lifeline with the Federation was not his wife or daughter or mother-in-law, but Admirals Paris and Ponsonby. Through them he knew that Hannah was doing fine, that Kathryn... Chakotay closed his eyes.

He missed Kathryn.

But he had work to do.

It was becoming more and more dangerous to freight medical supplies to home worlds and refugee camps. The Liberty had taken severe knocks, and Torres's admission to their cell was a welcome relief. Within a week their navigation and shield harmonics had been improved and the engine was running smoothly. B'Elanna has set up a new communications system that was an improvement on the old Federation signals they used.

Now, his anger returned as he waited for Paris, Dalby and Henley. They were already three hours late. It wasn't like Dalby and Henley to be late. They had been with him since he himself joined and they were good, punctual and driven. It was Paris who proved to be an unknown factor. Chakotay had found him drunk on more than one occasion. But, he needed Paris to take the Limpet out to sector 467 and camouflage their trail.

Chakotay gave another sigh and stopped short as he approached Torres's cabin. The smile that slowly grew on his face froze as he heard a scream coming from inside.

"Torres!" he called out, already keying in an override code on her cabin door.

The moment he was inside, her saw her thrashing about wildly, landing on the floor as she tried to fight off her invisible foe.

"Torres! B'Elanna, wake up! It's a dream," he said as he held her shoulders and shook her awake.

"P'taQ!"

B'Elanna hit him and the next moment he thudded against the opposite bulkhead. He realised instantly that she was still in the throes of her nightmare and that he was her Cardassian rapist. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her again.

"Come on, B'Elanna, wake up!"

She lashed at him again but this time he was ready for her. He slapped her hard across her cheek. B'Elanna's eyes opened and she stared at him unseeingly.

"B'Elanna, it's alright. Shhh..."

Relief swamped him as her eyes focused finally and recognition dawned.

"Chakotay?"

He reached to touch her cheek. B'Elanna flinched, her breathing erratic as he made her sit on her bunk.

"It's alright, B'Elanna. I'll not hurt you. Do you understand?"

She nodded mutely.

"You had a bad dream."

"Y-yes..."

Her face puckered and B'Elanna gave a deep sob as she hurled herself into his arms. Chakotay held her until her sobbing subsided, her small frame shuddering in the aftermath of her crying. At length. when she became calm again, she sat back but looked away and he thought she was embarrassed at the way she cried. It surprised him that she did. She had been terrorised on the night of her ordeal, but that night she hardly shed a tear. He was seated on a low stool, and his gaze was level with hers as he pressed her gently so that she could look at him.

"It will get better," he encouraged her as she pulled the covering protectively around her body. She nodded and relief surged through him. "This the first time you had this nightmare?"

"I - I've had it almost every night," she admitted.

"We don't have a counsellor on board, B'Elanna. I'm sorry, sorry for what happened to you - "

"It will get better, you said," she iterated his own words. He gave a nod, not smiling in answer to her own tight little smile that formed round her mouth.

"I'm here, B'Elanna, if you want to talk about it, okay?"

She nodded again. "I was stupid - "

"No. You were robbed, Torres," he said, his voice suddenly terse. When he saw how she closed her eyes at his tone, he softened. "You were caught in a situation which was out of your control. You must understand that..."

"I should never have gone there. M-my friends, they left early, you know. And - and I..." she paused, her eyes misting, but holding the tears back with force as he saw her bite her lower lip. "I thought I could handle them. I'm Klingon - "

"You were alone, Torres. They cornered you like the cowards they were. Six - seven against one, and a whole tavern full of individuals prepared to watch someone get raped? Tell me you were looking for it and I'll kill you with my bare hands."

B'Elanna smiled, her face lighting up this time and he returned her smile.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Want to bet?" he asked.

"You don't want to kill the best engineer you ever had, and that's official, Chakotay."

"Good, I see you've got your equilibrium back, Torres. Just...don't go blaming yourself for what happened, will you?"

"That - that d'k tahg...it's a Klingon dagger..." she said softly as her eyes locked on the dagger in its sheath at his waistband.

"Don't worry too much about it, Torres," Chakotay said, his voice again terse.

"But - "

He sighed. "A dying warrior. His back had been turned to his foe, Torres. You understand that, don't you?" B'Elanna nodded. "He asked me to be the custodian of his weapons - "

"So you have his bat-leth too?"

Chakotay nodded. "You're tired, Torres. You've been on duty eighteen hours straight. Get some rest," he ordered her.

B'Elanna gave a sigh. She was a lot less strained, even looked like her fear had left her. When she lay back on her bunk, her hand came up to touch his tattoo. Another sigh and her hand fell back slowly. He smiled as her eyes closed, much as she tried to keep awake. But he needed her in engineering in eight hours. Morrison would have to do in the meantime.

"Chakotay..." B'Elanna's voice sounded too sleepy for her to be speaking still to him.

"Yeah."

"The woman in the picture..."

"What about her?"

"She's beautiful. Is she your wife?"

Chakotay was quiet for long minutes, glad that B'Elanna was already dozing when he sighed and rose from the stool.

"Yeah," he whispered very softly. "Yes, she's my wife and she's very, very beautiful..."

"You miss her..." B'Elanna said, her voice slurring, heavy with sleep.

"Yeah..."

******

On the bridge Chakotay was at the conn when he received a long range signal, coming through on one of his emergency bands.

"Dalby!" he said urgently. "Where the hell are you? You're four hours late!" Chakotay's voice was suddenly edgy, laced at the same time with worry.

Dalby looked fazed for once, and behind him Chakotay could see the face of Mariah Henley. Henley appeared bedraggled and in tears. Chakotay frowned heavily. Mariah in tears?

"Chakotay! Listen, we've got bad news - "

"Where's Paris?"

"He's been caught, Chakotay. I - we lost concentration, maybe for a second, two seconds. They had Mariah, but Paris, he - "

"Come on, Dalby! What happened? Speak up, man!"

"They were Federationists, Chakotay. We blew our cover, so Paris..." Dalby swallowed heavily. "I'm sorry, Chak. We've got the information and equipment, but he was caught red-handed. Paris, he said - he said he was alone...we heard him arguing with the Security Officer."

Chakotay raised his hand, feeling something grow cold inside him. He had not trusted Paris completely, but he had to get Dalby and Henley back to the Liberty.

"Look, just get in as fast as you can. We have to hightail it to Alkorea."

"We're there in fifteen minutes, Chakotay," Dalby promised. "Paris, it's his first mission. We screwed up, Chakotay - "

"Just get back, Dalby. We have to leave!"

"Aye, sir."

"And God help Paris. The man's in deep trouble..."

*****

END CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated "M" or [R] for sexual overtones and language. Meet an old friend too.

* * *

**Rating: R for sexual overtones and language**

 

**CHAPTER TWENTY SIX**

**March 2371: The Science Institute - Cardassia Prime**

It was quiet in room 23 of the Medical Suite of Science Institute. Sedeka had been in this section of the Institute for the third month and the project was complete, with only final tests to be run. She lay with her eyes closed, and only occasionally her eyelids would flutter then close again, or a nerve in her jaw would twitch. Her lips were parched and she was thirsty. Mostly, her hands lay loosely at her sides and they would clench and unclench, so that her knuckles stood white against her skin.

Sometimes, she would utter a cry that lifted her from the bed; then she would slump down, exhausted as fine beads of perspiration swelled from the pores on her forehead. She had not wanted to look at Gul Evek in the last few days. He had not been entirely happy with her idea when she broached it almost three months ago, but then she'd gone to his superiors and convinced them that her plan would work. Evek had been in a murderous mood, and when he got her alone, showed her just how in control he was and how much her last meeting with Chakotay meant to her. Evek had kept her chained to his bed for hours, and while her body had refused to obey her and unwillingly bent itself to Evek's will, her mind had been shut off from what he was doing to her. Even that was short lived. He sensed it too soon, and then he took pleasure in making her co-operate in his bed as if there had never been any other man for her. She had often wondered how she could attune herself so to Gul Evek's lust and at the same time allowed Chakotay to get under her skin.

Her last communication with Chakotay...

Even now, with her eyes closed, the complete stupefaction and embarrassment when she finally woke from her stupor washed over her and she gave a grunt of pain. She had been a fool. After Dorvan V her body craved the Native American. Her entire mission, from a personal point of view, backfired on her. She had become gullible but mostly vulnerable, and Chakotay had known how he could pay her back. He had always known. Her mission had been accomplished: get Chakotay off Dorvan V or just keep him out of the way. That had been the deal. The deal paid unanticipated dividends. Kathryn Janeway separated from her husband and perhaps it was the fact that his wife was no longer with him that paved the way for her to make a serious play for him. Not that she had any qualms to make a play for him, married or not.

So, she began dreaming of dark, smouldering eyes, a smooth tanned skin, the possibility that even after his hallucination, something of their union would remain embedded in his memory. He would still lust after her. She wanted him. She had been given a taste of total bliss with him; it was nothing like she had ever experienced in her life. There had been times when she had switched the imager off, then made him believe she was really Kathryn... Sedeka gave another small cry. Those hours he made love to her. They were not fucking like mindless dogs then. He had been gentle, loving and caressing. And even though he believed she was his wife, Sedeka had experienced what it was like to be loved. Her body just craved him with the kind of urgency and feeling that had been completely strange to her. Cardassian men took wives based mostly on their physical compatibility; things like tenderness, love, respect, compassion were secondary, and rarely expressed. She felt something for Chakotay that through the way he made love to her, she'd been jealous beyond measure that he could love his wife in all the ways that she discovered, a woman deserved to be loved.

It had been one of the risks of her job, and she had been drawn afterwards to Chakotay in a way she had never before been with or to any man. Always, she had been in control of her faculties, her main aim to subjugate with lust and using her body to prove her power over men. Nowhere had she been remotely touched by any man she bedded. They fucked her, she fucked them, and that was the end of that. Only Evek could make her lose control; she had always believed that they were drawn by their common need to control others, that they were of like minds. That had been their bond. There were no feelings that presented opposite of malice, of deviant behaviour in the way they copulated, of hatred and a cruel streak that separated them from the term "good". That was why she allowed Evek freedom with her. She enjoyed him, sometimes even made herself believe that she could love him.

Her grandmother was one of the lucky ones.

 _Abhail_ never marry.

On Dorvan V Chakotay made love to her. Even in his hallucinatory state when he believed he was making love to his wife, her body responded to him like it had not with any man. After that she fantasised about him, couldn't get him out of her mind, and, with pained hindsight, out of her system.

That was her downfall. She allowed pleasure to encroach on business and let the two become so meshed that when the time came to separate them, it was too late. Chakotay played her for the fool she was, brilliantly outmaneuvered her and paid her back in kind, using the same tools to destroy her that she used on him.

It was only thirty six hours after Chakotay entered her cabin that she woke up in a daze, hardly able to recognise her surroundings, and still in a state of extreme sexual pleasure that made her believe Chakotay was with her all the time.

She had opened her eyes, flushed by the aftermath of her orgasms. She saw his figure hovering over her in the darkened cabin. Her body felt on fire, as if he were still embedded in her. She ached inside, she realised a second later, and something - her vagina? - was still throbbing in rhythmic pulsing. She frowned heavily. Chakotay had bent over her, breathing heavily, murmuring words of love, hadn't he?

She gave a sob.

"Chakotay?"

"He's not here, Sub-commander."

Gul Evek. His voice sounded gruff, sarcastic.

She touched her body, trembling fingers ran over damp and sensitised skin until they touched the object. Along the way her fingers hooked into leather thongs secured around her waist. Lodged firmly between her legs and strapped to her so that it couldn't disengage, was something so thick that it must have torn her skin inside her sheath.

The light in the room had swelled so that she could see Evek clearly. He smiled maliciously down at her.

"You look...well fucked, Sedeka, by an artificial organ, no less."

"W-What? Where is Chakotay?"

"I let him go, for I will fight him another time."

Evek bent down and unstrapped the thongs. He pushed her back, spread her legs wide and slowly pulled the pulsing dildo from her. To her shame, her body still shuddered from the effects of her high orgasm. She had no time to get angry, or be bitter or fill herself with the need to pay Chakotay back, to take revenge.

No time...no time...

Gul Evek had simply slid himself between her legs and fucked her.

"This is so you can heal, Sedeka," he murmured as he cupped her face, looked deeply into her pained, shocked eyes and moved against her.

If she had the need to weep, Gul Evek had all but seen to it that there were no tears all the time his body was joined with hers. She had lain still, unresponsive, allowing him to caress her for once with something of a kindness she had not associated with Evek. Was it minutes or hours later? She must have suffered partial persistent vision, because at times she knew Evek moved inside her, and at others she was convinced it was Chakotay. Eventually, when she knew it was only Evek, her body had succumbed to his kindness and only then she responded, giving a hoarse cry as she reached a climax. He had stayed with her all night. Not once did she weep even though, at times, her body craved that release.

The hating came later. It had been good to hate Chakotay. That emotion superceded love which betrayed her. Thinking about how she found herself when she 'woke' up from her hallucination - the humiliation, the way Gul Evek claimed her body afterwards - fanned the embers of her hatred for what Chakotay had done to her and kept it burning brightly. If she had thought to destroy Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway, his retribution had been terrible.

Sedeka gave a sigh. To violate the women on Dorvan V when Cardassia claimed the planet, had been an idea spawned by her... Not that the soldiers needed any prompting from anyone. It was war. There were no rules. Still, it afforded her no relief, no satisfaction that she had paid Chakotay back. The soldiers reported how the burials rites had been a dignified affair. One soldier reported that he felt the Federation still triumphed in those moments. Her victory was a hollow one.

It was why she came up with this idea. She needed to save face, literally; needed one more chance to break the man who humiliated her. Their superiors had been pleased that she and Evek had wanted to make another attempt at bringing down Chakotay. They learned quickly that he had left the Federation and joined a band of renegades that picked off Cardassian vessels and strongholds with daring ease, while remaining as elusive as the Cardassian cat-walkers. Their strongholds and arms caches were found, destroyed and turned to nothing against the Federation who scavenged after the Maquis and whom their superiors now strongly believed, was given intelligence by the freedom fighters. Even with aid from their allies, the enemy proved invincible. Sedeka believed Chakotay lay at the heart of this insurgence, and it was why her plan had to succeed. Chakotay was their biggest threat almost a year ago; he still remained their biggest threat. Her mission would be to destroy Chakotay; her motivation, two-fold. She would gladly drive a dagger through his heart and watch him die.

Sedeka rose from the bed and stood before a small mirrored wall unit. She touched her face, caressed her smooth forehead and gave a little smile. There were no ridges. Except for the nose, her face was smooth, her skin as fair as the Bajorans or those Earthlings who were Caucasian.

"It will take at least two months to effect this radical change, Sedeka," Gul Evek had said when she approached him with her idea. "And I'm not convinced that you will be able to infiltrate the Maquis. Your feelings for Chakotay remain a risk factor..."

"Do not worry, Evek. This time you will be able to dispose of the bands of renegades we are having trouble containing."

"And you? You will lose face again, and then what? Will you have me save you again?"

"I will not fail you this time, Evek. Chakotay will not know what hit him..."

Gul Evek's eyes narrowed, then he gave her a sly grin.

"Then, my dear Sedeka, it will be as you wish."

***********

"Your records show you were given at least two complete blood transfusions as a child," Doctor Omer Preiral had said as she lay on the narrow bed in the first week of the lengthy series of experiments. They had not done such a procedure before and work on her would serve as their blueprint for future references and requests from the Cardassian Union.

"I contracted a virus called Rouall's Syndrome. It changed my blood composition. I would not have survived," she replied.

"An interesting medical breakthrough. Your body's DNA changed to that of another Cardassian person whose DNA closely resembled yours?" Dr. Preiral asked. "Therefore your blood is technically not yours."

"I have always understood that it was donated by a kind woman who lost her husband and children."

"Yes," the scientist replied, analysing her blood carefully, "you will be the first Cardassian woman who will become a Bajoran. We could not change your blood because of this Syndrome, but I will make it 99% impossible to detect. You will look Bajoran, speak like a Bajoran, and there will be no external traces that you are really a Cardassian."

"Thank you, Doctor. It is what I wish."

"Good. The first phase will be completed in a week. However, I should warn you that some of the procedures will be painful."

"I look forward to it."

Her reply had sounded light, relieved. She had no compunction, no regret that she would look and act like a Bajoran. Yet, after that first week she had lost all her hair. The next three weeks had been the most painful when, after a series of injections, her skin changed slowly from the scaly, lizard-like appearance to the smooth alabaster it was now. She had borne her pain with courage, grit her teeth long and hard to subjugate her own pain and triumphed over it.

Sedeka's hand went to her left ear lobe and she fingered the Bajoran earring carefully. The new face that stared back at her now, after almost three months of tests and operations, was strangely familiar. It looked different, with not a trace of her Cardassian skin tone, not a trace of her ridges; her skin gleamed smoothly alabaster-like and even her eyes had changed to a grey-green cat-like colour and shape. It was different, yet familiar. Still, no one would ever recognise her. No one. In a detached manner she thought that the face that stared back at the Cardassian Sedeka was a beautiful face - a beautiful Bajoran woman who appeared aloof. The face was no more than a face which she could appraise coolly, even with a hint of bitterness. Her mind, her conscious, her soul - that was Cardassian. She shook her head slightly. She recognised _her_ , but the Bajoran face had to grow with her conscious. Sedeka smiled, pleased with her new look. She had a new mission and she was fired up. Infiltrate the Maquis and bring Chakotay down, by whatever means necessary.

She had been glad then, and now, a little more than two months later, the final tests have been completed. All the time Gul Evek had been with her. After his short missions, he would return to the Science Institute to check on her progress, or to give her some encouragement. It was not wholly out of character for Evek, but she wondered mostly about his agenda. She could never be certain whether it was true affection for her or him just making certain she kept her end of the bargain.

Over two months she had become used to her new appearance. Her hair she had, of necessity, to dye a lighter colour. It hadn't taken much artificial dying, she thought wryly. As her physiology changed, everything about her body changed, even the colour of her hair. It was now a golden bronze colour, not unlike that of Kathryn Janeway's hair. Sedeka smiled at that thought.

She wasn't certain that she liked her evolution from Cardassian to Bajoran but she had to adapt. She could accept it as part of her work; of a devious scheme to infiltrate the enemy, but she was a Cardassian, proud of her race.

Her nose now had small ridges, and her features were a lot sharper than when she had been Cardassian. By the remotest of coincidences would anyone find out she was really Cardassian. Only her blood could tell, and only through micro-analysis of her DNA. What likelihood was there of that happening? No one would ever recognise her. The day after Doctor Preiral worked on her vocal chords, Evek had been surprised when she greeted him in another voice. Then his eyes had given off that steely glint again. Sedeka could immediately sense what he was thinking.

It would be good to copulate with a stranger who was not so strange...

Sedeka felt a lot thinner too, than before. She had to ascribe that to the rigorous eating regime she had been subjected to. Still, she missed the Cardassian Sedeka.

"I'm not gone," she told herself, "I am just in my other body... I am still me..."

She turned, momentarily startled when Gul Evek entered her room. He stared at her for long minutes, a keen look he gave as he raised his hand to touch her cheek. Sedeka frowned, wondering whether he liked what he saw, or couldn't reconcile the Cardassian woman with the Bajoran who faced him. She stood closer to him, her breasts just grazing the breast plate of his armour. He drew in his breath sharply and Sedeka gave an inward smile. Her touch was nothing that would make him turn away from her. Instead, she knew she could still turn him on. Her hand lowered to his crotch and just a slight grazing there affirmed his arousal.

Then she back away again, giving them both breathing space.

"So, Evek," she asked him finally, "what do you think?"

He gave a grunt of pleasure.

"That you'd make a good Bajoran mistress?"

"I'm also an undercover insurgent, Evek. Don't forget that."

"Oh, I’ll not forget, Sedeka. Come here..."

She stood closer again. Her Bajoran eyes narrowed.

"Out there," he stated with a soft curse, "you're going to spy for us. You'll do your job as a good Cardassian warrior."

"Yes, Evek."

"And you'll destroy Chakotay again."

"Yes, Evek."

"You hate Chakotay."

"Yes, Evek."

"Don't let it stand in the way of your mission. You screwed up before; he paid you back in kind. For once, the beautiful Sedeka was not in control of the situation. We want Chakotay dead, Sub-Commander, but your need for personal revenge could jeopardise your mission. We are giving you this chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Union..."

"I understand, Evek. I have already devised a way in which I will infiltrate. I am Bajoran, am I not? I will get my man..."

"Come here, woman," he said gruffly as he pulled her to him.

"Of course, I'll serve you first, Evek," she purred and smiled as he hardened against her. "I'll be away for some time, but I would not like to have you miss me..."

"Witch..." was his last word as his mouth locked with hers in a crushing kiss. Sedeka's hands came round his neck and her mouth opened under his. For several moments Evek punished her mouth but Sedeka was patient. She ran her fingers through his hair, felt rather than heard his groan as she pressed into him. Slowly, the tension changed, his mouth seeking, becoming soft, allowing her to feel his tenderness. When he broke off the kiss, he was panting, his eyes fevered as he held her face barely centimetres away from his own.

"I'm yours, Evek," she whispered.

"Preiral has left us alone for a few hours, Sedeka. No one will disturb us here..."

"Then I will leave with a good memory, Evek. I will return to you.."

"Sedeka."

"Yes, Evek?"

"You are in my blood."

"I know..."

***

**April 2371 - First City of Komari**

Three crew of the Liberty made their way along a dusty road of the First City of Komari in the Komari Star System in the Demilitarised Zone. B'Elanna was being outpaced by her much taller colleagues so her steps were shorter and faster as she tried to keep up with them. Ayala and Morrison were not aware of how she practically had to run next to them.

"So you say," she panted, "we're to meet two Bajoran dissidents here?"

"That's what Dalby said. One is a young boy, no more than sixteen years. His parents had been killed during the purge on Bajor. He had been lucky to escape and Dalby met him some months ago when he declined to join up in then."

"So what made him change his mind?" B'Elanna asked.

"He watched a close friend die a month ago," Ayala replied.

"Dalby knew of that?"

"Yeah. The kid sent a subspace message that he was ready to become a rebel. He figures he can kick some Cardassian ass very quickly once he's part of our group."

"So, what can this boy do?"

"Practically nothing, I guess. He's to work under you, B'Elanna."

"Oh? On whose orders?"

"As if you didn't know, Torres. Certainly not Dalby. Chakotay gives all the orders. Dalby probably consulted Chakotay."

"Oh."

Morrison, who had been quiet during the exchange between Ayala and B'Elanna, suddenly piped up.

"And who is the other person?"

"Don’t know. Maybe just someone wanting to tag along with Dalby's friend. You know them, Torres. They have nowhere to go, so they find a home in the Maquis."

"Or a convenient hiding place. Chakotay has no time for them."

"Hey," came B'Elanna's rejoinder, "I had nowhere to go."

"Huh-uh. No way. Chakotay went looking for you himself, remember? He reckoned you important enough to make contact personally, otherwise he sends Dalby or me - "

"And," Morrison cut in, "you've got to be able to do something useful for the ship."

"Chakotay's not like that, Morrison. I'm certain he'll take the kid, even if he has to be trained to become useful."

Morrison stopped in his tracks and stared at B'Elanna.

"What?" she asked, a little non-plussed at the way Morrison stared at her.

"You're really putting the Boss on a - a...pedestal, Torres. But then, The Boss likes you too."

"Maybe you should revise that, Morrison," B'Elanna growled. "Chakotay is happy with my work and I _don't_ put him on a pedestal."

"Okay, then maybe not. But you like to defend him - "

"Wouldn’t you?" she bit back at Morrison and Ayala laughed at the way Morrison started walking fast again. He turned to look at B'Elanna and pointed a finger at her. There was a smile on his face and the horned nodes on his forehead appeared to redden.

"If you must know, Torres, I'll give my life for that man."

"There, see? You admire him too."

"Okay, okay!" Morrison said, laughing to hide his embarrassment.

Ayala joined in the laughter, then said, "But Chakotay still likes you, Torres."

"As a little sister, yes. The man is married. End of story," she barked suddenly at Ayala. Ayala slowed down and touched her shoulder.

"We know, Torres. But we can all see how he protects you."

"Yeah," Morrison piped up.

"Like you're real family," Ayala added.

"Fine, just keep it that way," she scowled.

B'Elanna didn't like them saying anything remotely disparaging about Chakotay, even just discussing him. She noticed from the start that Chakotay never liked discussing his private life. That first time in his office he had looked at the woman in the picture and his heart had been in his eyes for a moment. She had been given a peek into that Chakotay; the man who killed those Cardassians had a tenderness that few saw. He saved her life, he talked her through her nightmares, he was just such a rock she could lean against. Her scowl changed to a smile, and Ayala caught the change in her mood.

"So, there's no one else on the Liberty you like?" Ayala suddenly batted his eyelids at her and she gave him a playful rib. "Hmmm?" he persisted.

"Not unless I count you two morons." She liked Ayala, but she knew what he meant.

"Paris liked her, Ayala," Morrison offered.

"No way!"

"And you liked him too."

"Come on, B'Elanna. Admit it. You had the hots for Paris."

"What? He's a pig, Ayala, and you know it."

"You knew him only what, a week?"

"And most of the time he grated on my nerves."

"He's serving time, B'Elanna. He'll never work on your nerves again."

"Chakotay was a little sorry to see him go. Said he knew Tom's parents."

They all knew that Tom Paris had been charged with treason and sent to a correctional facility. It was Chakotay himself who relayed them the message in sombre tones. They had not ventured to ask how he knew the details. Standard procedure was known to them, but certain things Chakotay mentioned he couldn't have known, but they weren't supposed to pry. She didn't like Paris much, but regretted nonetheless that he was in jail.

"Pity," Morrison said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Paris took the rap for Henley and Dalby and he wasn't snitching. Means something, doesn't it?"

"So the man has a conscience. So what?"

Her sudden verbal about turn of her own regret that Tom was in jail was enough to throw them off the scent for a while, at least. She knew they weren't fooled, and she admitted grudgingly that her thoughts since Tom had gone, centred too much on a dashing, smirking, blonde-haired, blue-eyed pilot who was far too handsome for his own good. What did he see in her? A half-Klingon, half-human woman with too much aggro. That's what.

"Maybe you can ask the Boss to send Tom intelligence that there's someone who misses him..."

B'Elanna bristled.

"See this fist, Ayala?" B'Elanna started. "I'll - "

"Hey, we're almost there," Morrison said, breaking the rising tension.

B'Elanna was glad. She'd been on her best behaviour and doing her best not to let the others bait her. Most of the crew steered clear of her, except Ayala, Morrison and Dalby. She liked them, if truth be told. They had a no-nonsense attitude about them that was a lot like Chakotay. She gave an inward grin. If they didn't show their awe of Chakotay, it was the way they emulated the Native American that all but revealed how much they respected him. B'Elanna loved the thrill of being one step ahead of their pursuers, always conning them with Chakotay's creative evasive maneuvers. The man was a genius, she thought. She had come to depend on him, but more importantly, put her absolute faith and trust in him. It was really good being on the Liberty and being a member of his crew. For the first time she felt that she was needed, that her expertise and ideas were not treated as useless or unimportant; that some even listened to her. Chakotay respected her and she felt good about that.

The last two weeks she'd had the nightmare three times. After the last one in which she was convinced it was happening to her again, she had half expected Chakotay to be there in her cabin, shaking her awake. So she got up and stumbled to Chakotay's cabin where he comforted her through her trauma, talked to her in calming tones, then walked her back to her own cabin and stayed until she fell asleep again. In the morning she had woken up lighter than she had in days. It wasn't easy trying to forget, but she was getting there.

She gave a soft little sigh and turned her attention again to her two friends. They neared the plaza and B'Elanna looked Morrison up and down, brushing down his garment.

"Okay, that's good. Morrison. For such a camouflage, I must say you look the part of a Ktarian priest."

"I am Ktarian."

"Who had a human father," she said, then bit back any other comments. Her own father was human, and he didn't feature in her life. Morrison nodded and B'Elanna could see how his eyes lit up. Morrison's father was overseeing the refugee camps on Alkorea and he had been happy to see his son when they had been there a week ago.

"So, I'm a priest," Morrison reminded her, "come to perform a wedding ceremony for a Ktarian couple living on Komari."

"Who has no business consorting with a Native American Starfleet officer supposedly on patrol in the DMZ." B'Elanna gave Ayala a playful rib as she appraised his Starfleet uniform. Some camouflage. Ayala would get thrown immediately into a Federation prison for imitating a Starfleet Officer. She herself wore her dark brown top and trousers with calf length boots.

"And you, Torres?"

"No one knows me here. It's my first time out, remember?"

"Oh, sure. We're three innocents paying our respects to a young man lost his family."

"What's so wrong about that?" B'Elanna asked as she ran alongside them.

"Absolutely nothing. Now let's get going," Ayala ordered.

They neared the end of the dusty road that was one of several entry points to the plaza. If the young boy were in danger, as they always presumed since they were constantly on the alert for such an eventuality, they were prepared. With hindsight, she realised that was why Chakotay could dispatch her Cardassian attackers so swiftly. He had been prepared... She still recoiled at the sight of him killing them.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the end of the road, near the plaza they were heading towards. Ayala and Morrison hurried forward, instantly on the alert but more out of curiosity to see what was happening. It was so like them, B'Elanna thought. They wanted to be where the action was and the action was inevitably a fight scene. Most of the time though, they never discounted the fact that their contacts might be in trouble, so she conceded their haste in getting to the scene. Like a beacon it drew them closer. B'Elanna's heart thumped wildly. It was her first mission planetside, and the situation a dangerous one. She had managed to cloak all their signals on the Limpet but they had to get in and get out as Chakotay always warned them, before they were detected.

"We can't always hide in the clouds, guys," he told them on more than one occasion. "One day we'll hit one that's not so friendly." His voice had been brusque after Dalby and Henley returned without Paris at the helm, but with the much needed medical supplies.

The fight was probably over, or, an attack on some unfortunate individual, B'Elanna realised. People were milling about and others were looking down at something. B'Elanna immediately recognised the young Bajoran boy who fit the description Ayala and Morrison had given. It was easy to recognise him: he was the only Bajoran she detected as she scanned the small circle. The boy looked traumatised, though B'Elanna could see there were no signs of injuries on him. He had such a fresh-faced, innocent look that B'Elanna wanted to curse that his parents had been killed. The kid should still have been in school, or something.

"What happened here?" Ayala asked as he pushed a few bystanders aside to look at the person lying face down on the ground.

"We don't know," someone said. "We were all inside the inn - "

"We didn't see any attack..."

"We saw a Cardassian shuttle land," said another.

"No, they did attack her... I was too far away."

"How convenient," B'Elanna hissed softly.

"There were three of them. We don't know where the woman came from."

"The shuttle left again soon after it landed."

B'Elanna growled suddenly. How long had the victim been lying there? she wondered. Yet, there were people standing round, doing nothing... What was the matter with them? How lucky had she herself been when Chakotay rescued her from the Cardassians in that tavern? They would have left her there and then what? They would have... The patrons in the bar wouldn't have lifted a finger to help her. It was war, and whether it looked like an excuse or not, those people had been afraid too, of reprisal. But no one helping? How detached were they becoming? Were they immune to the suffering of others?

The situation they were in now, was a little different, she thought. The victim appeared to be still alive. Her attackers left their victim for dead, the scum... She was suddenly angry at the bystanders.

"You guys want to tell me no one thought to take her somewhere where she could get medical attention?"

"It must have just happened," one man, an Andorian, said.

"Some excuse," B'Elanna retorted.

Her voice had risen to a sharp tone, nearing hysteria. Ayala touched her arm and B'Elanna relented a little as she cast the bystanders a furious glance. She bent down and turned the woman carefully over, and only then noticed that the victim was Bajoran. Her clothes were torn and... B'Elanna shuddered. There were signs of sexual assault. There were deep bruises to her face and neck and arms. The young Bajoran gasped as he saw her Bajoran features. B'Elanna looked up at him.

"You know this woman?" she asked him. The boy shook his head. Ayala and Morrison had also knelt down to check the woman's vital signs. Ayala unclipped his tricorder and scanned her.

"She has concussion," he said as he studied the readings. "No internal injuries... but she's badly bruised and.." Ayala looked pointedly at B'Elanna and nodded as if he read her thoughts that the woman had been sexually assaulted.

The boy, still looking shocked, wanted to move away, but Morrison rose swiftly to his feet. He looked scared as Morrison held him by his shoulders and spoke in a voice that sounded deeply compassionate.

"Please, do not be alarmed. We are here to help. What is your name, son?"

The kid blinked, startled at the friendly tone.

"I - I am Gerron."

"Okay, Gerron, let us get you someplace. This woman, you say you don't know her?"

"I've never seen her," he replied morosely.

"What are you looking at?" Ayala asked the bystanders, with none of the kindness in his tone that Morrison adopted. "We'll take care of her. Now please, give us some room..."

The people moved away slowly until only the three of them were left with Gerron and the unidentified woman. As soon as they were alone, Ayala said to Gerron, "I take it you're the one who called Dalby?"

Gerron's eyes lit up, and he gave a tight smile.

"Where's the other person you said was with you?" B'Elanna asked.

"He was killed a few days ago. He - " Gerron choked suddenly, his eyes becoming red with unshed tears. "No one knows who killed him...no one... We were three. My other friend died a month ago."

"It's okay, Gerron, you're safe with us. We have to hurry, though. This woman, she has been beaten pretty severely. Know anything about her attackers?"

"Only that they were Cardassian."

"She needs our help, Ayala. We have to get her to the Liberty."

"Torres, you want to bring a sick dog on board," Ayala stated, raising an eyebrow.

"We can't leave her here! She's a Bajoran. I'm sure Chakotay won't mind. We can take her to a place of safety."

"B'Elanna, I'm not so certain. We don't know this woman at all. We were only instructed to get Gerron and his friend."

"Well, now consider this unfortunate individual his friend. We'll still squeeze five into the Limpet."

"I don't think it's a good idea. We don't know her - "

B'Elanna rose to her feet and locked her gaze with Ayala's.

"She's been beaten up by _Cardassians._ "

"Then you take responsibility for this decision, Torres. You want her on board - "

"What would you have us do?"

"Look, I'm just saying Chakotay might not want her on the Liberty..." Ayala said, his voice trailing away.

"Are we going to remain here and argue while this woman may die?"

Ayala turned red at B'Elanna's accusatory tone. She bent down again. The woman's face was badly bruised, and she had not regained consciousness. On their shuttle they could treat her and then who knows? Chakotay needed another crewmember for communications. She had her hands full just nursing her engines on regular fourteen hour shifts. They could use some assistance, if the woman had some science ability.

"Okay," Ayala relented finally, "but let Chakotay make the decision to keep her on, Torres. You know how grouchy he gets sometimes."

They were alone on the edge of the plaza and they had a way to get back to their shuttle and do so without being detected. She'd been able to cloak their signals, but it wouldn't be long before a clever Cardassian or Starfleet rookie locked onto them.

B'Elanna sighed. Ayala was right. Chakotay _was_ edgy these days. She knew he missed his home. She didn't have much of a home herself, so she had little frame of reference for an attachment to a mother or father, or a spouse with a little baby, even to a homeworld. Chakotay left everything he loved dearly to pursue a life in the Maquis. She heard what had happened on Dorvan V, what the Cardassians did to the women there. Was that why he hated the Cardassians? Whatever feeling he had for them, was also underscored by the fact that the Federation let his people down. That much she gathered when they were on Alkorea at the new settlement for refugees and the displaced. There they spoke with bitterness of how the Federation let them down when they counted on being protected by them against the enemy. There was no one of Dorvan V except Chakotay, who could speak for those who died there.

Yes, Chakotay was edgy lately. If they brought another homeless woman on board, Chakotay might just not be in a frame of mind to take her in. Then again, who knows? The woman was beautiful, B'Elanna thought. She sighed again. It was an insult to Chakotay. He looked like he fell only for one beautiful woman in his life and that was the woman in the photograph, Kathryn Janeway, Starfleet captain, commander of the USS Crimond. That little bit of information didn't come from Chakotay, but the two minutes she and Tom Paris had not been at each other's throats and he actually looked serious enough to care what Chakotay thought of him. It had been then Tom told her that his parents knew Chakotay, that his mother was the couple's physician while they were stationed on Earth.

"The man's brilliant, Torres. Just...he doesn't like me," Tom had said then, his voice becoming a little peevish.

Yes, Tom had filled her in, fitting in another piece of the puzzle that was Chakotay, former Starfleet officer. Yes, he missed his family; he stared again too long at the picture on his desk. It was a gamble she had to take. She felt something about the woman's ordeal resonate in her.

"Fine," she told Ayala. "You got the site to site transporter?" Her last question was directed at Morrison.

"Yes," he replied, fishing the instrument from under his cassock.

"We'll transport you as well, Torres, and you can resuscitate her there. There are no other severe injuries, except that - "

" - she was raped."

"Hell, Torres."

"Yes, Ayala," B'Elanna said stiffly. Ayala cast her a keen glance then looked away quickly.

"Ready?" he asked.

B'Elanna nodded and the next moment, cradling the woman against her, the two of them were transported to the Limpet.

Fifteen minutes later three pairs of eyes were on the woman as B'Elanna used a hypospray and pressed it into the patient's neck. While Ayala piloted the Limpet, the others were all squeezed into the shuttle making its way back to the Liberty. They had risked fitting in a fifth person in the first place, but Chakotay had been adamant that they bring both refugees back to the vessel. B'Elanna gave a little sigh. Gerron's friend had been killed and in his place they now had a woman who was slowly opening her eyes.

"Hello," B'Elanna said to her as she groaned and tried to sit up.

"Where - where am I?" she asked.

"You're on the Limpet, a small shuttle," Morrison replied

"We're on our way to the Liberty."

"The...Liberty," the woman repeated the name of the vessel slowly, as if she were testing the word.

B'Elanna ran a regenerator over the contusions on the woman's face and gradually the bruises cleared. On the Liberty they could treat the bruises on the rest of her body. No ribs were broken, but the woman winced sharply when B'Elanna touched her ribs, then she gave a sigh as she sat back on the narrow bunk. Now that the heavy bruising was gone, B'Elanna drew in her breath slowly. The woman was beautiful, with her sad-sad looking eyes.

"Care to tell us what happened down there?" Morrison asked.

"I - "

"We know you were attacked. Did you recognise your attackers?"

"Only that they were Cardassian. I was on - " The woman was startled for a moment.

"You were left for dead on Komari."

"Komari? But - but I was on Kula Prime," she said, her grey-green eyes suddenly misting at some memory.

"They brought you all the way to Komari to dump you there. Kula Prime...isn't that a small Bajoran settlement?" The woman nodded.

"On Kula Prime, I was abducted from my abode by - by a Cardassian warrior. M-my husband...they killed him..." She was quiet a few moments while she twirled the ornate ring on the middle finger of her right hand. "This ring...it's all I have left of him," she said softly, her words ending on a sob.

"It's a beautiful ring," Morrison said.

"He - he said he wanted a mistress."

"A Bajoran mistress."

They all looked to Gerron when they heard him give a cry of anger, his eyes suddenly wild and his face flushed.

"They did that to my mother..." he said when he calmed enough to speak. "They killed my father to make her do what they wanted..."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Gerron."

"Hey, don't worry. You're with family now," Ayala said as he spoke from the minute conn area.

"And then what happened?" Morrison asked the woman again

"I resisted, and then - then he brought the others..."

She closed her eyes, and they watched a tear roll down her cheek. B'Elanna felt sorry for her. The woman was distressed. She lost her husband, her family, friends. How could this Bajoran woman not hate what they had done to her? As if B'Elanna remembered something very suddenly.

"Tell us, what is your name?"

"M-my name..."

"Yes."

**

Sedeka looked at each face in turn, noting how they primed themselves for her answer.

It was the moment Sedeka had been waiting for. Her tears looked real, and the four warriors who worked her over on Kula Prime did their work well. She was prepared to endure pain, extreme pain even, so they beat her up, kicked her and fucked her. What she wouldn't sacrifice to make it all look authentic! They had to leave her unconscious on Komari, but only after they had extracted information from their informant who told them that young Gerron had made contact with a Maquis cell. Some weeks ago, they killed Gerron's other friend too, and Sharuk planted the desire in him to join the Maquis. Sedeka had no sympathy for Sharuk who was forced to do what they wanted. They had his mother and father on Cardassia Prime as hostages and they would free his parents once he was certain that Gerron called this Dalby he spoke of.

Poor, foolish Gerron. It was so easy. Once Sharuk told them they had made contact, they killed him. All they had to do, was wait for the contacts to arrive, dump her conscious body on the dusty ground and let Gerron watch, then wait for the pickup. It was a gamble and it worked. .

Sedeka couldn't help but laugh at them. They were suckers for the needy and the injured and the downtrodden and the oppressed. Like a sick dog, they've just taken her in and asked no other questions other than how she got hurt, how she got there and what her name was. Were they stupid? Still, she traded on their sympathy and succeeded. To them, they would run across ten sectors to save one sick dog. Compassion, Sedeka thought, was a weak emotion in humans, mostly. What they termed as their strengths, others deemed to be weaknesses, and those weaknesses were so easy to exploit. So easy. The woman named Torres was clearly not all human, and there were Ktarian features on the one they called Morrison. They were sorry for her; they were taking her to the Liberty where she'd meet their leader; they would probably tell Chakotay that she could be useful for something and then she would remain on board the Liberty.

All she had to do was play an injured, rape victim while crew of the Liberty would come and collect Gerron. Good thing the warriors beat and kicked her while there were a few people walking about the plaza so that they could create a little diversion, get their attention and let them flock to the scene out of their own stupid curiosity.

"Make it look real," she had instructed the warriors. "You could stop short of just killing me..."

Now they wanted to know her name.

Evek had discussed it with her and she had told him she would assume a new name, naturally. She had to, she told him, and she had always been thinking of one. That was after they had been copulating on her bed in the medical wing of the Science Institute on Cardassia Prime and Evek had been more than a little gentle with her. The test was successful; no one saw her for anything other than a Bajoran woman whose husband had been murdered by Cardassians and who tried to flee when they wanted to bed her.

She was almost there...almost. When she heard them say they were on their way to the Liberty, her heart thundered wildly for a second and she could gladly have endured more pain in the ribs for the joy of knowing that very soon she would come face to face with the man who humiliated her and he would not recognise her.

Her grandmother was a Cardassian _abhail_ who was eventually looked upon with kindness by a gul in the Cardassian army. Sedeka had grown up listening to stories of her grandmother and the many conquests she made among Cardassian men. Ami had herself been reared by her father's Bajoran mistress when her own mother died shortly after she gave birth.

The one thing Ami always said to her eldest granddaughter was, "There is nothing you cannot attain in life, Sedeka. All things are possible, even for _abhail_. Many men say _abhail_ have no feelings, but that is not so..."

Then there were times when Ami, as she called her grandmother, would say, "One day, my child, you will meet a man who will light up your eyes."

She did meet that man. His name was Chakotay.

"Men, Sedeka, are weak and you will find that weakness and prey on it."

Sedeka thought how her grandmother had been such a driving force in her life. There was nothing that she could not do or achieve, and for all that the granddaughter became an _abhail_ like her grandmother, braving the men who flitted in an out of her life, it was not a Cardassian man she craved but a dark man, a Native American human from the planet Earth.

Chakotay.

She was ready to meet the man whom she hated and loved with all her might. She was ready to kill him. Her grandmother was right. She found Chakotay's weakness before and she'll find it again. Therefore, she would honour her grandmother by taking her name that had once belonged to the Bajoran mistress who raised her and make it hers. .

Evek had looked that day at her, his face still flushed from the aftermath of their lovemaking and in his eyes dawned wonder.

"A wise name, Sedeka. It means 'conqueror'."

"I know, Evek."

Now Sedeka stared at the faces of Gerron, Torres and Morrison. They were waiting for her to identify herself. For a moment her grandmother's face flashed before her, a wide smile of victory gracing her noble features. Sedeka touched the ring on her finger, stroking the roughly wrought Cardassian cat-walker that formed its head.

_Thank you, Ami, that I can claim your name as my own now. It means much to me..._

"What is your name?" they asked her.

"I am Seska."

****

 

**END CHAPTER TWENTY SIX**


	27. Chapter 27

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN**

Kathryn Janeway nodded to her first officer, Commander Eamon Daley, indicating that she was ready to go off duty for a few well-deserved hours of rest. Eamon gave her a tight smile, then seated himself in the command chair. Seeing his expression and the way his eyes became dark, Kathryn paused and bent down to squeeze his shoulder. Sighing, she straightened up and when he didn't respond she proceeded to the turbolift.

She was in a hurry to get to her quarters and walked briskly down the corridor when she exited the lift on deck 2. Thoughts of Eamon Daley made her frown again. She felt sorry for him. His sister Siobhan was one of three officers killed in the shipboard accident at Caldik Prime. She had still been at home at the time, but news of the accident had come through to Starfleet via Admiral Paris. Kathryn shook her head. She didn't want to think of it now. All events were still so fresh and with Tom now in New Zealand's Penal Colony, it wasn't easy to discuss it with his father or her own mother. Tom's mother, Elizabeth Paris, had changed overnight into a tired, dispirited physician whose son had disgraced his family. It was not so much the disgrace that they felt keenly and could deal with; it was Tom's continued refusal to see his parents.

Eamon Daley had been bitter at first. Siobhan was his sister, the youngest of their family and serving at Caldik Prime on the USS Bavaria as an Ensign. Her death came as a shock to his family and more than that, the way in which Tom Paris first lied his way through something which to her mind was an accident due to pilot error, then coming out afterwards to tell the truth, left a sour taste in the mouth. Tom could hardly have impressed the Judge Advocate General as a reliable witness, giving an account of what happened at Caldik Prime. Tom was young, brash and rebellious; at the inquest he had not behaved well, his attitude more than anything else giving the Advocate General the leverage they needed to cashier him out of Starfleet. Tom had made a mistake and joining the Maquis could most likely have been a reaction to the manner in which he was booted out of Starfleet. He was angry, getting deeper into trouble that led to his incarceration in March. In the last month since she resumed her command of the Crimond, her first officer had been quiet.

 

"She was so young, Captain," he said at dinner in her private dining room the first day on duty. "But, my family have accepted that it was an accident. We miss her, naturally. My - my mother has forgiven Tom Paris, you know."

"I understand your brother has not been as forgiving," she told him, remembering the angry rail of Joshua Daley when he faced Tom's father, and Owen Paris's shame at being attacked in public.

"I know, Captain. He has a hard time dealing with Siobhan's death. After our father died, he presented that figure in our home."

"Eamon, I can tell you that Tom had a difficult time of it, as well as his parents. He hasn't gone unpunished. He's in prison and refuses to see his parents."

Eamon had nodded and they continued their dinner in silence. Her first officer did not pursue the matter; she was inclined to think that any mention of Tom being in prison would naturally lead the conversation to her own husband being a fugitive, a freedom fighter in the Maquis. She had not wanted to talk about that aspect of her private life with anyone.

When the doors of her quarters opened, Kathryn all but ran to her office and quickly initiated a message to Earth. She would be home in two days' time, and she couldn't wait for the month that she'd be at home. She had been away in deep space for a month, and time appeared to crawl, making her more and more impatient. Her heart thundered as she waited for the connection and seconds later, a face appeared on the screen

"Mom! Where's Hannah?" Kathryn asked, sounding very out of breath.

"And a very good day to you too, Kathryn," Gretchen chided gently, a smile forming at the same time as Kathryn mumbled through a quick apology. Kathryn watched with bated breath as Gretchen moved momentarily out of sight and a few seconds later she returned, holding baby Hannah in her arms.

Kathryn's eyes softened, then misted over as Hannah stared directly at her, waving an arm excitedly.

"Oh, Mom...I miss her so..." Kathryn murmured as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand and touched the screen with the other. Hannah started making little gurgling sounds, dribbling all over her bib and Gretchen's fingers. At almost five months old Hannah was already sporting one tooth.

Gretchen held the wriggling baby who leaned forward and tried to touch the screen. Kathryn's eyes were tender as they rested on the baby. When Hannah looked directly at Kathryn again, her face broke into a smile and two dimples formed in her cheeks. There was silence for a few moments as Kathryn wiped a tear from her eye and drank in the image of her child smiling at her. She hadn't seen Hannah in a month and couldn't take her eyes off her baby.

"I wonder if she's fascinated by the screen," Kathryn mused.

"Honey, she recognises you. We've shown her enough pictures and holo-vids of you..."

"That makes me feel a whole lot better."

"And we're showing her as much as we can of Chakotay, Kathryn," Gretchen said quietly. Kathryn's eyes closed as she touched the screen again and smiled. She had insisted that they show Hannah pictures and holo-vids of her father so that one day... Kathryn gave a deep sigh, then opened her eyes again and looked gratefully at her mother.

"Thanks, Mom. Has Hannah been fractious lately?"

"Well, besides the fact that she missed you the first few days, she's also teething, Kate..."

"I can see that! I missed her first tooth," Kathryn complained.

"Don't worry," Gretchen said. "You'll be home in two days then you can take your baby off my hands and pyjama drill her yourself - "

"Mother! Shame on you. Goodness, her hair seems to have grown too."

Kathryn looked so longingly at Hannah that Gretchen laughed. She kissed Hannah's cheek and pointed to the screen.

"Say hello to Mommy, Hannah. Say 'Hi, Mommy'."

Hannah responded by blowing a few more bubbles and this time Kathryn laughed out loud at her baby's antics. Hannah was beautiful with her shiny pitch black hair, the dimples that formed when her face broke in a smile and her eyes that were like Kathryn's own eyes. They were bluer than hers, a real baby brilliant blue, Kathryn thought as she looked at Hannah. She wanted to cry again as an image of Chakotay suddenly flitted before her. It had been so hard since Hannah was born, so hard to live without him. Kathryn blinked back the tears as Hannah made baby sounds that Kathryn felt her heart wanting to burst.

"He'll be back one day, Kathryn. He promised, remember?"

It was as if Gretchen had read her thoughts.

"I still miss him, Mom. You know that - "

"I know, Kathryn. Kathryn..."

"Something up, Mom?" Kathryn asked distractedly as she touched the monitor to join her fingers with Hannah's pudgy little baby fingers..

"The reception may be a little cool on the side of certain admirals, Kathryn. Thought I'd warn you."

"Mom, I can handle Hays and Nechayev. They've got nothing on me, and Chakotay - "

"He protected you by separating from you, honey."

"I'm still tied to him in all the ways husband and wife are tied. Even if he divorced me, I'm still under scrutiny by Starfleet Security. Chakotay wouldn't put us in danger, Mom. I'm convinced of that."

"Then I'm happy, Kathryn. I know it's hard for you, but you're bearing your cross well, you know."

"Mom, I'm not going into hiding because some individuals at Headquarters choose to remind a lot of other individuals that my husband is a traitor to the Federation, a Maquis renegade freedom fighter who deserves to be locked up in jail. I know there are talks, but it's part of my life now, isn't it?"

Gretchen nodded. Then Kathryn watched in fascination as Hannah fell asleep against her grandmother's bosom. Gretchen cradled Hannah to her, her hand stroking the baby's hair. She placed a tender kiss on Hannah's head then looked with misty eyes at Kathryn again.

"You sound very proud of him, Kathryn."

"I love, him, Mom. If there weren't this connection between us, who knows, I might have called a dark-haired, tanned, bedimpled Native American a renegade and Federation traitor too." Kathryn was quiet for several moments as both women thought of what happened on Dorvan V the previous year. Kathryn was proud of Chakotay and deep in her heart resided the knowledge that Chakotay loved her as deeply as she loved him, and that he would return home someday.

"Kathryn..."

"Mom?"

"Tom is in prison, as you know."

"That's common knowledge it seems. Siobhan Daley's brother is my first officer."

"I know. But Kathryn, did you know Tom offered his services to the Maquis?"

"Mom," Kathryn sighed, "you don't have to tell me. I know that and unless we're on a very, very secure channel which I've just made certain of," she added, "don't tell me anything that might be hacked into..."

"Fine, I know. Kathryn, Tom was working in Chakotay's cell."

Kathryn turned cold, knew that her face must have paled.

"I had an idea of that.."

"There's more to it than meets the eye, honey. It seems he covered for someone - "

"Mom..."

"I understand, Kathryn," Gretchen said quickly. "I'll wait when you get home, honey. Then we can talk..."

"How are Admiral and Doctor Paris holding up?" Kathryn asked, her voice laced with concern for the Parises. They were her mother's close friends.

"As well as they can in the circumstances. Tom... If only he talked to his parents more, Kathryn. He's shut them out, did you know? And poor Elizabeth is so brave! Owen...you know how he hides his feelings. He's become so closed lately, even Elizabeth can't seem to reach him, though I can tell you she senses his deep feelings. Owen loves Tom. He loves his son dearly. Tom won't see them, Kathryn." Gretchen shook her head, her eyes suddenly dark with sympathy for her friends.

"I know. We'll talk when I get home," Kathryn repeated her mother's words, hoping that her words would steer the conversation in a different direction.

They needed to keep their conversation clean for safety reasons. Although she wondered often in the last months how far Chakotay had succeeded in tracing Winonah, she knew that that at least, was something he would have informed her of in some way or another. Or another... Her heart contracted at the thought of Winonah lost somewhere. If only...She sighed. Already she had been accused of knowing where her husband was. She had no clue, and she was glad that she didn't. It protected her and her baby; it protected Phoebe and her mother. It protected Admiral Ponsonby... That thought made her recover again and the smile she gave her mother was suddenly one filled with mirth.

"So, Mom, how's Admiral Ponsonby?"

Gretchen patted and rocked Hannah gently while she cast Kathryn an aggrieved glance.

"Oh, _him_?" Gretchen Janeway asked, her lips curling into a curve at the corner of her mouth and one eyebrow lifting. Kathryn stifled a laugh at her mother's expression. Chakotay always teased them about the Janeway Lift.

"Yes, _him,_ Mother. The man you married in January, remember? The same man who is my boss, my stepfather, Hannah's grandfather, etc. Need I say more?"

"Kathryn, the man's insane! Why did I marry him?"

"Because you love bossing him around?"

"No, honey. He's bossing _me_ around, _me_! He wants to build me a new house. Can you believe that? I've lived all my life at Indiana. It's my home. I don't want a new house! I told him so, too!"

"Mom! How could you? I just know you gave him an ultimatum."

"What's so wrong about that?" Gretchen asked, kissing the sleeping Hannah's cheek.

"What ultimatum, Mother?" Gretchen humphed when Kathryn called her 'mother'.

"It was nothing that you should be worried about. Your little Hannah is safe with me and - "

"What ultimatum, Mother?" Kathryn insisted then smiled tenderly as her mother gave her a sheepish grin all the while as she cradled Hannah in her arms.

"No sex!"

"Mom!"

"And don't you go blushing, Kathryn. I'm not over the hill yet, you know."

"And neither is the Admiral, I suppose, hmmm?"

"Then he told me straight. Can you imagine my pedantic Adam Ponsonby suddenly getting life in him? He told me we could dissolve our _liaison_ right there in his office with that old goat of an Owen Paris presiding over the proceedings - "

"And naturally, Mother, you couldn't bear the thought of not having the good Admiral around you and you relented on the house?"

"It's the sex."

"Oh. Okay."

"And don't blush."

"I promise I won't, Mother. But, Mom, he's good for you, isn't he? So you gave in to his demands"

Her tone was suddenly serious again as she looked at her mother for a few burning seconds. Almost, she lost Chakotay because she wouldn't give him a chance, didn't want to listen to him. She knew her mother was just being her old cantankerous self, but she needed a shot in the arm of reason.

"I have been independent for many years," Gretchen told her. "I have to get used to - to needing someone again, honey."

"And used to being needed, too. Not just by Hannah who's sleeping so sweetly. Adam Ponsonby is head over heels in love with you, Mom. He just wants to do things for you..." Kathryn knew the way she phrased her words and her tone had to have an impact on Gretchen. She deliberately let her words trail at the end.

"Well, now, er..." Gretchen started in a tone that suggested she was ready to make ten big concessions although her resistance had already crumbled by Demand No. 2 but she was too proud to say so directly to Kathryn. "He's pottering around in the back garden waiting for me to hail him."

"And how long has Adam Ponsonby been pottering outside in the garden?"

"Only since this morning early."

Kathryn's brain instantly went into overdrive.

"Mother! That's five hours ago! He's freezing out there! Let him build you the house. Let him take you to Risa for a holiday. Let him turn up late for work because he's so busy showing you how much he loves you. Tell him there's no condition attached. No conditions, Mommy..."

That got to Gretchen. Kathryn's wheedling tones made Gretchen roll her eyes.

"I told him that you and Chakotay could live at Indiana once - once..."

Kathryn gave a sigh, touched the screen to feel close to her baby. Her eyes were soft as it rested on her daughter, then fixed on the older woman.

"He'll come back, Mom. He promised. I - there will be some prison sentence for him. You realise that, don't you?"

Gretchen nodded soberly, then a slow smile spread across her face.

"You know, Kathryn, I didn't know it could be so fulfilling. It's watching you with Chakotay that day, when you gave birth. I was always going to marry Adam, did you know? I've known him longer than I've known your father. It's very good, Kathryn. But honey, I'm a Janeway. I have to put up some resistance..."

"I know, Mom, I know. You love Admiral Ponsonby to distraction. Now, I have to close communication. Kiss Hannah for me, will you?"

Gretchen immediately carried out Kathryn's instruction and rested her lips warmly on Hannah's cheek, her eyes closing as she did so. When she looked at Kathryn again, she smiled.

"Yes, Kathryn," she sighed happily, "I love Adam Ponsonby, even if he speaks such Darcy-ish English and takes pictures of Hannah and the dog all the time. He's never shown me any of it. I wonder..."

Kathryn laughed.

"Bye, Mom. I’ll see you all in two days."

When the Federation Insignia showed on the screen, Kathryn sat back and gave a sigh of relief. Then a smile formed as she thought of her baby. It had been a month since she had seen Hannah and she had been surprised to see how the baby had grown in such a short period. Hannah smiled, recognised her and waved with her pudgy arms. Kathryn had been worried that after a month Hannah would withdraw from her. She longed to hold Hannah in her arms, longed to smell her baby softness, lose herself in her child and just revel in her little girl's attachment to her. Hannah strongly resembled Winonah, who also had the dimples Chakotay had.

Kathryn's joy overflowed. When she resumed her duties again, it had been with extreme apprehension that Starfleet wouldn't let her get her vessel back. Her connection to Chakotay was too obvious and everyone knew that Chakotay had, hardly a few days after Hannah's birth, joined the Maquis. She had taken a lot of negative feedback about being married to a man who was a traitor. It had been difficult in the first few weeks to answer them, and most of the time she had one ready: It was his decision to make; she was not going to condemn him for that. But, according to them, she was guilty by association.

Their rebuttal: So, your husband doesn't kill any Starfleet officers or Federation members? They all knew there were Maquis who weren't selective in whom they killed

Chakotay would never do that, no matter how deeply he renounced the Federation's stance on those colonists who gave up their citizenship and who were no longer guaranteed protection by the Federation..

That was her response to Admiral Nechayev who appeared to gloat every time Kathryn had been summoned to Headquarters to give account of Chakotay's activities. A week after Hannah's birth - she had been angry at the manner in which she had been called away from her newborn baby - she stood in Nechayev's office and defended her husband fiercely to the woman whom very few people connected to at Starfleet Headquarters.

Admiral Nechayev was a woman without cheer, without any desire to experience the joy of just being alive. She had had made it her life's mission to bring to book any Maquis traitor or sympathiser who betrayed the Federation. Chakotay was Nechayev's major thorn in the flesh. They sent bounty hunters after him, and searched the sectors for a lone vessel called the Liberty, captained by a man whom Nechayev firmly believed, deserved to be sentenced and executed.

"Make no mistake, Captain Janeway, we _will_ get Captain Chakotay, and he _will_ be sentenced."

Nechayev's voice dripped with bitterness. Only a few Maquis members had been caught so far, and Tom Paris was already in jail. Kathryn couldn't help feeling glad they couldn't find Chakotay. He knew all there was to know about evasive maneuvers, devised a few new creative ones of his own and there was not a parsec in the Alpha, Beta and Gamma Quadrants he didn't know. Her guess was that they'd probably hide out in nebulas that made detecting them impossible. She hoped - no, prayed - fervently that Chakotay was safe. She really had no idea where he was or what he was up to. He vowed to protect other innocents, but any details were a mystery to her. He had a vessel called the Liberty - information imparted to her by a bitter Nechayev - but that was all she knew. In truth, she knew as much as Nechayev probably. All she could build on, was the vow he made in his last letter to her. He wanted to fight for the freedom of those who had lost their homes, their homeworlds, and who had so little protection against the Federation as well as the Cardassians. The Nechayevs and Hayses were blind to the fact that the Maquis, however ignoble they were made to look by the Federation and the Cardassians, actually did help the Federation in fighting the enemy.

She was not blind herself to the fact that Chakotay, when he returned one day, would be apprehended and sent to jail.

She had given a sigh when Nechayev cornered her like that.

"Admiral, I am very well aware of the repercussions for my husband. It's not easy to ignore, is it?"

Kathryn had known how Nechayev had spawned old resentments and a few new ones against her so that it was impossible to walk past a high ranking official without the feeling of being watched with extra care or an air of suspicion that she knew where Chakotay was hiding. If it hadn't been for Admirals Ponsonby and Paris she would have gone back to Indiana and stayed there with her baby and never come out again. But she was not the hiding type; she faced the onslaughts and fielded them as best she could. Now, after almost five months of Chakotay's absence, the novelty of a Starfleet captain with a Maquis husband had died down a little. Most of the events the gossipmongers feasted on these days were the latest in what they called the Caldik Prime Scandals and the downfall of a promising young Starfleet officer. It hadn't been easy for Elizabeth and Owen Paris. Just as she has had to deal with scorn and pity from others because her husband was branded a traitor, so did Tom's parents bear their own cross. If only Tom would speak with them, Kathryn thought. It would mean a great deal to Elizabeth and Owen Paris. They hurt, though Owen Paris particularly, never showed how much Tom's rejection of him did.

Kathryn gave a deep sigh, allowed thoughts of her baby and her love for her missing husband suffuse her until she could become restful again. She had a long day and soaking in a tub would help her peace of mind a great deal more than thinking about Caldik Prime, or Eamon Daley's quietude, or Admiral Nechayev whom she had to face again, or Admiral Hays who kept prodding her about Chakotay's whereabouts.

**

Gretchen Janeway smiled to herself as she placed Hannah back in her crib in the nursery they installed at Indiana. The farm was not that big but the homestead had been in her family for generations. It was time Kathryn and Chakotay took over the running of Indiana. Phoebe had not wanted the responsibility of tending Indiana and her life with Rodea was fulfilling enough where they were based in Paris.

She had a sudden vision of being in her new home with the man she loved so much, even though he spoke like Mr Darcy sometimes. The man was just so...everything. Her life with Edward had been so different, with their daughters growing up. She had loved Edward fiercely, overlooked his absences from their daughters' lives especially their achievements and accepted the fact that near the end of their marriage there was only a gentle affection between them. Edward was a Starfleet Admiral on active service. Could she have grown to love him less because even subspace communications were not enough to nurture a relationship that needed above all, constant sustenance? Gretchen sighed. She had loved Edward; it wouldn't be fair to him, to his memory, to disclaim that now. Still, she had never felt so completely home as she did now, or so completely at peace with herself. She basked unashamedly in Adam's attention, but sometimes she just needed to establish herself as Gretchen Janeway who put up resistance against Adam for the sake of it. He already conquered her; he didn't have to know just how easy it was.

Their new home would be just outside San Francisco and she'd be able to take up her position again as a theoretical mathematician at the University. It wasn't that Adam had been jealous of Edward's memory; it was far from that. He simply wanted to do so many things for her. It was something she had to get used to. So she fought him all the way about the house, claiming she didn't want it, that she was happy at Indiana, in Indiana. How could he go to all those expenses? Then he came back at her about how Chakotay just about made himself bankrupt furnishing his home and converting one room into a nursery for baby Hannah.

"And he was never even certain that Kathryn wanted him back, love," Adam said with a kind of smirk that didn't sit well on his handsome 71-year old face.

"He felt guilty, Adam," she lied.

"Oh, no, love. Chakotay loves that woman. She is in his blood, did you not know?"

When Adam didn't contract his contractions, he was in his most pedantic romantic mood.

"That is not fair, Adam Ponsonby. You can not compare - "

"Do you not think, Gretchen Ponsonby - "

"Janeway - "

"- Janeway-Ponsonby - "

"That's better."

"Do you not think, Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby," he conceded with a twinkle in his eyes, "that I could not love you less than Chakotay loves his Kathryn?"

Gretchen smiled again as she remembered his words. She loved to bait Adam, but he remained as even-tempered as ever, never losing his cool. She hated him for that. Really hated him. But he was right. She just had to accept that he loved her to distraction and would do anything for her.

The kitchen window provided a good view of the back garden where Adam had been pottering about all morning. She had let it go to seed and Adam found working there therapeutic, a way to retire from the major decision making and strategising at Headquarters that he and Owen Paris seemed to be in constantly. She smiled. She hadn't wanted a new house, but Adam had been gently conniving, the beast. Before she knew it, she agreed. She wasn't about to tell Kathryn that, although Kathryn blushed furiously when she said the admiral was a great lover and she'd not miss the sex for anything.

When Adam looked up and caught her gaze, he waved and smiled. He left what he was doing - last time she looked out, he had been planting tomato seeds for Kathryn, - wiped his hands on his apron and joined her in the kitchen. Gretchen's heart gave a lurch as she looked at his face and saw the unashamed affection in his eyes.

"So love, did you tell Kathryn?"

"What was I supposed to tell Kathryn, Adam Ponsonby?"

"We sent all the holo-images of Hannah and the family to Chakotay."

She couldn't tell Kathryn that Adam and Owen communicated with Chakotay, although she burned to impart that information to her daughter.

"No, I didn't. I wasn't supposed to, remember?"

"A Janeway who listens! I am all - "

"Don't you dare say it - "

" - astonishment."

"Yes, Mr Darcy."

Adam pulled Gretchen into his arms and kissed her. For a few moments it was quiet, and when the kiss ended, he held her away from him so that he could look at her. The dog appeared out of nowhere it seemed, though Gretchen remembered that she was outside in the garden with Adam. Ceara barked and Gretchen bent down to stroke the now fully grown dog. Ceara licked and panted and in the next moment, Gretchen shooed her outside again. It scurried towards the door, turned to look longingly at Adam and when Adam moved, Ceara was out the door in a second. Adam closed the kitchen door and returned to take Gretchen in his arms again.

"You have something on your mind, Adam."

"It's Kathryn's birthday soon," he stated, not looking surprised that she knew he had something on his mind.

"And, my love?" she asked, her voice muffled as she nuzzled her face against his chest.

"We have to think of something, Gretchen."

"We certainly do, Adam. But the way I know you, you have already thought of something," Gretchen said softly.

"Yes, Gretchen, my love."

"Good. I don't want to know what it is. Now, kiss me again, Adam Ponsonby."

"Yes, Gretchen."

***

The three vessels on the viewscreen approached at two thousand kilometres in ominous formation. A Romulan vessel was flanked by two Cardassian war ships. Tom Paris's fingers hovered over the conn panel; he could get the Romulan vessel, but strafing fire from the war birds already charred the outer hull of the Bavaria's portside. They were in trouble...

 "Shields!" Commander Crean shouted.

"Down seventy percent, Sir!" it came from Ensign Daley at the Operations station. Her voice sounded high-pitched, scared.

"Mr Paris, evasive maneuver Omega 6!" Crean barked.

There was hushed silence as Tom hesitated. His hands stilled on the conn panels for a split second. He turned to look at Crean then faced the viewscreen again.

"Commander, with all due resp - "

"Mr Paris, this is no time for debate. Do it!"

He knew they were in trouble. Omega 6 was outdated. They would only tickle the war birds, move out of the way only about ten thousand kilometres. Where could they hide? What the hell was Commander Crean thinking? A variant of the Epileng Cross Maneuver would get them out of trouble. They were sitting ducks, but they could get out if they were prepared to sacrifice the Bavaria.

"Sir - "

"Do it, Paris!"

When the co-pilot looked pointedly at him, Tom sighed and entered the sequence, knowing in his heart that he was doing the wrong thing. The vessel rocked as phaser fire hit them starboard side.

"Shields down 80 percent!" Siobhan Daley yelled, the edge of fear still in her voice.

Tom's hands felt clammy; the rising nausea caused him the breathe with difficulty. He knew if he looked in a mirror, he'd see the perspiration on his forehead, the slight flaring of the nostrils. He always felt that whenever they were in a no-win situation. As another phaser blast hit the port bow of the Bavaria, Tom pulled hard to starboard, unseating some of the crew on the bridge. Commander Crean remained on his feet directly behind Tom.

"Dammit, Paris, you can do better than that. We're getting back-up, but right now we're to fight this battle as best we can!"

"Aye, sir!" Tom responded, but he was angry. Why wasn't Crean more creative? Even with one against three, they could get out. What was the man thinking? Still, he kept his mouth. Crean was the Commanding officer; it was his call. Tom lined the battle cruiser in perfect position to fire a photon torpedo and destroy at least two vessels. They were so close that an explosion from one would hit the other vessel, as long as it was followed immediately by blasts from their phaser banks.

"Commander, there's a vessel aft, five thousand kilometres away. They're firing!"

"Damn!"

The Bavaria rocked, then careened as her secondary hull was hit. Tom pulled her into position again. At the same time a Federation vessel appeared and their momentary joy turned to agony as the Bavaria took heavy fire from the enemy vessels.

He wanted to tell Crean to explode the Bavaria and beam their crew to the USS Falkland. Commander Chakotay's Epileng Cross Maneuver in reverse. He and Freyne Detroit tried it out a dozen times in the holosuites of Caldik Prime... They could do it. Let the enemy think they've killed everyone on board.

Shut up, Paris, and do what Crean says...

Fire!

"Report!" Crean shouted as they were thrown to the floor. The hull platings started to buckle as air was sucked from the bridge.

"Commander! We have no life support!" Aren Hager shouted from Tactical.

"Shields down 90 percent, sir!"

"Paris!"

"It's impossible, sir! I can't get her stable. We're imploding. We must bail!"

"No! Damage report!"

Lieutenant Aren Hager's voice rose above the noise.

"We won't make it, Commander. Hull breaches on decks 4 to 20, life support down."

"Commander, if we can get the war bird on the left - "

"We're going down, sir!" Paris shouted as the Bavaria careened one last time, limping through space. Tom was only aware of the Falkland opening fire on the three vessels. At least, they managed to fire three photon torpedoes... One last attempt as he tried to right the Bavaria..

"Paris, what the hell are you doing!"

"Saving our lives, sir!"

Then all hell broke loose as several more blasts disabled the Bavaria. Before Tom could do anything to right the vessel, he prepared a last ditch attempt to prepare for emergency landing.

Emergency landing. As he entered the coordinates, his console broke up in a shower of sparks.

The next moment he wasn't aware of anything as they headed for the planet surface.

*

Tom opened his eyes sluggishly. Pain lanced his leg as he tried to move. He was lying on the floor, debris strewn about him. It was quiet, with only the dust created by the explosions, sifting about him. Pushing aside a piece of the bulkhead that landed on him, he tried to look around him and groaned. One or two crew were also rising groggily to their feet. In a daze Tom heard one them hail sickbay. The blue shimmer of the transporter beam was the only thing that appeared to have any form, though that too, vanished quickly as crew were transported to sick bay.

It was difficult to focus, the figures lying around him still a blur. Agonisingly slowly, the blurring receded and he tried to pull himself up on his conn chair. Grimacing, he realised they must have sustained a direct hit to the bridge. But he brought the cruiser down, didn't he? He entered the sequence for an emergency landing, didn't he? What did he press on the conn panel? Why were some of the crew lying so still?

With sickening dread he sank to the floor again and crawled in the direction of the operations station where Siobhan Daley had been standing. When he reached her where she was lying face down on the floor about two metres away from the Ops. station.

"Siobhan..." he cried out her name and touched her. Turning her over, he screamed. The left side of her face was gone. He felt his stomach heave.

"Oh, no..." he groaned as he turned and looked where Commander Crean was lying. How did he miss the Commander? He had been standing directly behind Tom. Now he could see only Crean's head under the weight of debris on him. There was no need to examine his life signs. Crean was dead. His wide-open eyes stared accusingly at Tom - dead, still-staring accusing eyes. Crean's mouth was open as if he were giving a final command.

By the time he heard other voices on the bridge, he knew that Aren Hager, the Security officer, was also dead.

"Dead..." Tom whimpered as he lay on his stomach. 

Then Crean, Hager and Siobhan Daley rose slowly to their feet. Their faces were white, the area round their eyes dark.

"Siobhan..." he cried out as she pointed a finger at him.

"Murderer."

"No, I - it was an accident. An Accident."

Crean pushed Siobhan and Hager away from him and cried in hoarse tones, "I told you to follow my orders!"

"Pilot error...pilot error..." Aren Hager uttered in flat tones, pointing a finger at him.

"No..."

Tom closed his eyes and willed their figures away from him. The bridge smelled of burning flesh, fresh blood, scorched hair. He realised absently it was his own hair that burned off his scalp. His leg looked lifeless and the pain, when it hit him, made him cry out. Then suddenly, Siobhan Daley's face changed. Another face superimposed on hers.

"Come on, Paris, you killed me..."

"Torres? Why are you here?"

"It's simple, Paris. There's nothing between us, so your conscience is clear if I died, right?"

"No! Torres, what's happening? How can you be here - ?"

"Murderer...murderer...murderer..." the voices of Daley, Crean and Hager echoed.

"Tell them I didn't mean it, Torres. Tell them! Tell them!"

"It's your call, Paris. Deal with it..."

"No...I can't. You should be alive. I wanted to take you skiing, remember?"

"No, Torres is no more. There's nothing between us..."

"Nothing..."

 

"No!"

****

Tom Paris salt bolt upright, gasping for breath. He felt a burn in his chest. The prison issue T-shirt he slept in was drenched in sweat. He touched his face, breathed heavily as he realised how clammy his skin was.

He had the dream again. The second one in two nights. This time B'Elanna was in the dream, though he couldn't fathom how she got there. He clasped the sides of his head in frustration as the voices started up again, banging insistently on his conscience.

"Go away..." he murmured softly as he looked distractedly around him. It was dark, but his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. He was sitting on his bunk in his cell. Dimly he could see the outline of the door.

Siobhan Daley's face flashed before him.

"Tom, did you know my brother is serving as First Officer on Captain Janeway's Crimond?"

"Daley, if I hear one more song of praise about your brother or Captain Janeway - "

"But Tom, you know Captain Janeway!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah. I also know the man in the moon."

"Come on, Paris. Don't be such a grouch early in the morning. We have to do some climbing, remember? You promised."

"Okay, Siobhan. I don't know why they assign the rookies to me," he complained, but smiled nonetheless at her. Siobhan Daley was still so young. Her face oozed youth and beauty and innocence.

"Thanks, Tom. Did I mention that you're the coolest officer on board?"

"Yeah..."

Siobhan Daley's face receded as the conversation ended. Tom shook his head. Siobhan was dead. Siobhan Daley and Commander Graham Crean and Lieutenant Aren Hager. Three officers dead and they took pleasure in visiting him in the dead of night. Tom rose from the bed and in the dark made his way to the small stand where he could take a drink of water. He gulped thirstily, then he sat down on his bunk again and sighed.

He remembered Kathryn Janeway when she brought him a letter from his mother a year ago. His mother had written that she missed him, that she wished he could come home more often when he was on leave. He had never bothered to reply, every time seeing his father's face whenever he thought of home.

Stern, uncompromising Owen Paris who looked at his only son with accusing eyes. Tom could never quite penetrate the steely glint in his father's eyes. He could never quite heal the breach that had been there since his late teens when he - Tom sighed again. Owen Paris didn't suffer fools; he never made mistakes, never showed any weakness, never ...never... What demands he made on himself, he made on his son.

He wanted the same from me... I couldn't be that, Dad...Didn't you know how difficult it always was to be called not Tom Paris, but Admiral Paris's son? I was always the son of an admiral, always the secondary part of a designation, never just me...me.

_When will I be Tom Paris, Dad? When will you let me be just...me? I wanted to shake you off, relieve myself of the burden of living someone else's life..._

Tom beat his fist in the palm of his hand.

"Damn!" he swore softly.

After the accident he hadn't wanted to see them - his mother, his father, Kathryn Janeway, his best friend Freyne Detroit who was stationed with him at Caldik Prime, not even Deanna Troi who was on shore leave at the time.

"I don't need a counsellor," he spat angrily.

"Your mother thinks you do, Tom," Deanna replied coolly. "You're suffering from - "

"I don't care what I'm suffering from. Just...leave me alone, will you?"

He had not been on his best behaviour at the hearing. He was angry, angry that his bubbly new friend Siobhan died, angry that he followed orders which killed them, angry that the emergency landing sequence still left them dead when.. He sighed. Why did he lie to cover up something that was an accident? Why did he lie?.

He had been afraid. He was paralysed with shock, distraught that three officers died by his hand, he believed. They kept coming for him in his nightmares, taunting him. Most nights he stayed awake all night so that he didn't have to dream.

I'm a wreck.

"You screwed up, Tom..."

"Yeah, right."

****

Tom was lying on his stomach, his hand trailing the cold floor when his cell door chimed. Raising his head, he blinked as a shaft of light flooded in as the door opened and a guard entered.

"Come on, guys, it's Sunday. I'm allowed to sleep late," he mumbled as he pulled on his trousers over the boxers he slept in. The offending guard stood before him, his burly figure daring Tom to object. As Tom stepped back, his security anklet clanked against the metal leg of his bunk. Tom pursed his lips. He couldn't shower in peace...

"There's someone to see you, Paris," the guard barked, then turned to leave the cell again.

"Wait!"

The guard paused and turned to looked at him.

"Who is it?"

"Admiral and Mrs Paris."

Tom turned cold as his eyes remained fixed on the door.

"I...don't want to see them..." he said, the guard's footsteps down the corridor the only reply to his objection.

He didn't want to see them. He couldn't bear his mother's unhappiness or his father's shame. He didn't want to look in Owen Paris's eyes and be reminded he screwed up. He was a miserable ex-Starfleet officer turned traitor who couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, shake off his guilt.

I don't want you to see me like this, Mom....

_Why didn't you stay away?_

_I'm no good trash, keep away from me..._

A array of images paraded past him. He was eight years old again, standing with a replica of the Bounty, with his father looking sternly at him.

_"You have work to do, Thomas. Why do you play with toys?"_

_"But, Daddy, I like the Bounty. I - "_

_"That's enough. Go to your room, Thomas."_

Tom shook his head, feeling how his eyes burned behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes.

I had no childhood, Dad. You robbed me of it...

Look, Thomas, the Phoenix of Zephram Cochrane. One day, son, you will fly the Federation's greatest vessels...

_Son, it's your birthday. I got you this little shuttle for you..._

_Daddy, look! I can fly! Thanks, Daddy!_

_Owen, dear, don't you think Tommy is too young to fly a shuttle? He's only eight years old._

_Nonsense, Elizabeth. He should not meddle with 19th century tall ships. This - this is where a pilot's real test lies._

_You will be the greatest flyer in Federation history, Thomas... You must prepare for that now..._

_Now..._

He fought his father all the time growing up. What good was it that his father dreamed his dreams for him? He had his own dreams, why couldn't they let him dream on his own? Why couldn't Owen Paris accept that his son was just an ordinary boy?

_Are you Admiral Paris's son?_

_Hey, Tom, your father is giving classes today for Advanced Flight Maneuvers. You coming?"_

_No, I'm off to Marseilles, to Sandrine's bar._

_Dad, there's something I want to tell you... I don't know how to tell you._

_I screwed up, Dad._

He wanted to speak of the accident. He wanted to tell his father of the Maquis, why he joined. He had no principles; he piloted the Liberty for a fee. He wanted to pour his heart out and tell his father it was an accident on Caldik Prime. He wanted to tell his father he was a screw-up and wouldn't the old man mind taking back a screw-up miserable being of an only son and forgive him for not talking. It's a great divide to cross, he wanted to say. But didn't someone say:

"Let me lie down and be your bridge, so that you may cross over the divide and not fear that you will plunge into its depths..."

He had dreams other than tall ships and star ships. Dreams in which his father held his hand and said:

"Here, let me lift you on my shoulders, son."

Tom Paris stood in his cell, the cold of the floor unheeded as he struggled to move forward and through the door.

The guard said they were here, he thought, a wave of shame and guilt spreading through him.

"God, I'm suddenly nervous. All I have to do is say I don't want to see them."

He disgraced them. Owen Paris's eyes bore into him.

"You must take responsibility for all your actions, Thomas..."

Tom remembered the first time he heard those words. He had been five years old, and got a bloodied nose and black eye after fighting with Freyne Detroit.

Five years old. How could he? He had been a child, addressing issues in the way of a child. What did he know of accountability?

But those words trailed him, refused stubbornly to break away and instead became a part of his daily life. He disobeyed his father for the heck of it. Most of the time he could evade the hurt in his mother's eyes, ignore the disappointment in his father's by closing his heart. What did his father know of how all he wanted to be was just a normal boy who didn't give a damn that Daddy was an admiral?

Now, Tom, you're at the Academy now. I expect you to conduct yourself in a manner becoming the son of an admiral.

"Yeah, right."

Then, suddenly, unaccountably, he remembered Captain Janeway's words when she relayed a message to him from his mother.

"Did you know, Tom, that Commander Chakotay refused to see his father for fifteen years? He went to Dorvan V kicking and screaming, but when he saw his father, all Kolopak did was say: 'Welcome home, son...'"

Dorvan V had been destroyed by the Cardassians, all its inhabitants murdered, the women raped. He heard the news not long after it happened. Chakotay buried his parents and brothers and sister.

"All they want is for you to come home, Tom, no questions asked."

He had an instinctive feel then that they didn't put her up to saying that. It wasn't Kathryn Janeway's style.

He remembered the good days, days when his father smiled at him and explained about Zephram Cochrane. He remembered his mother's chocolate chip cookies. He remembered the many times he had seen Owen Paris's hesitant move of the hand - a gesture Tom knew, that meant he wanted to talk - and he ignored it and walked away.

He remembered the way Owen Paris's eyes became clouded and Tom knew that he hurt his father.

Tom Paris rose from his bunk and sighed.

"Admit it, Paris," he muttered to himself, "you miss the old man. So why don't you just get off your behind and go see him?"

I miss you, Mom...

_I miss you, Dad..._

Tom felt suddenly better than he had in months as he proceeded to shower and dress and even sang off-key as he combed his hair.

By the time he walked out of his cell to meet his parents, Tom Paris knew that he had just been liberated by a thing called hope.

****

**END CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN**


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Chakotay says all is not as it seems, he really means it.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT**

**May 2371 On route to the Badlands**

"Let me get this straight, Torres. Seska will be dropped off at the nearest refugee camp. I don't need her services."

"She worked at a Bajoran installation, involved in communications. We can use her help - "

Chakotay walked round his desk and towered above B'Elanna. His nostrils flared and B'Elanna, still slightly in awe of Chakotay, backed away two steps. He stood hands on his hips. She hated it when he was so resolute.

"She's goes, Torres. No debate."

B'Elanna bristled for a moment, then decided her awe of Chakotay was not enough to prevent another salvo from her.

"Chakotay," she started softly, beating a fist in the palm of her hand, "Seska...did you see what she looked like when we found her? She'd been raped, beaten senseless, her husband killed and then they left her for dead. Gerron was there - "

"Another Bajoran. Why should he speak for her? He claimed he never saw her before. Look, Gerron is a kid, Torres. He's still shell-shocked from seeing his friends murdered,

"Well, then you _know_ what Seska must have endured, Chakotay! Hell, you saved _me_ from a similar fate."

Why was she fighting him? B'Elanna wondered. It was all going to be so easy. Chakotay took in strays, didn't he? He had a heart, didn't he? Although right now she could swear by Kahless he was born with a metal ball where his heart should be, the way he sounded now. Sometimes he could be so bloody angry and refuse to budge on the simplest things. As she kept his gaze, he seemed to relent. His eyes became soft, but the moment was fleeting. Damn! Why the hell didn't he just take the woman?

Chakotay's hands gripped B'Elanna's shoulders and he shook her a little. "Torres, listen to me. I can't explain it. I just don't trust her. You know how I got Dalby? Eddington recommended him to me when he heard what they had done to Dalby's wife. He figured Dalby could be of great assistance in the Maquis. There was one very angry man, but I understood him and I knew he could be trusted. The man's my second in command, Torres. Dalby gave me your credentials because he knew you and trusted you. He referred Gerron to me, Ayala, Morrison, Chell... Dammit, Torres. This woman is an unknown factor. I don't know her, I don't know of her and there sure as hell were no Bajoran installations that claimed a record of a Bajoran named Seska who worked for them."

B'Elanna didn't want to think how Chakotay found that out. If he were uncertain of anyone, that was how he ran checks on them: tracing them all over the Alpha Quadrant. He took no chances but she was not ready to appreciate his paranoia over security. Seska was a Bajoran who was violated and beaten to within an inch of her life. Didn't the man appreciate that at least?

"But she's Bajoran..."

"Who says Bajorans can't be traitors, Torres?"

Chakotay was really making life difficult.

"She has the ability - "

Chakotay shook her again.

" _Nothing_ is as it seems. I don't trust her. She came here without any recommendation - "

"Chakotay! How many crew on this vessel didn't also come without any recommendation?"

She got him there. There were crew on the Liberty that came with no recommendations other than that they lived on homeworlds taken over by the Cardassians, or lived in the Demilitarised Zone where the Cardassians violated the Peace Treaty over and over.

"I can tell you I checked them all, Torres."

"She is intensely interested in joining our cell. Chakotay, if I promise to keep her under my wing, will you let her stay for a few weeks?"

"A few weeks, Torres? I'd have to kill her after that. Who knows what secrets she may be encouraged to part with once she's out?"

"Dammit, Chakotay!"

He let her go so suddenly that B'Elanna stumbled backwards. For a few tense seconds he stared at her and B'Elanna saw how a nerve twitched in his jaw. Seska was a beautiful woman; her severe injuries couldn't even hide that. After she had been tended to, her face glowed. Could Chakotay be threatened by Seska's beauty? Why was he so dead set against her when he didn't even know her? She understood that one could mistrust a person on instinct, but surely, with Seska, given her particular circumstances, it was not enough. No, it couldn't be that he was threatened by her beauty, she thought. When he spoke, it was with a sense of resignation. She heard his sigh, saw the hands slump at his sides.

"Fine. She's stays. But at the first sign of trouble, she's out. You hear me? I don't care if you strike up a life-long friendship with her, she goes. I don't like her, Torres."

B'Elanna nodded and didn't wait to be dismissed. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the ready room. She had been to Seska's cabin earlier, before she had come to Chakotay. Chakotay had only seen Seska when she had been brought on board and treated by Chell and Mariah Henley in the small sick bay of the Liberty. Chakotay stood just inside the door of the sick bay and walked forward to look at the latest arrival. He had given Seska one look then turned and left again, but not before she, Dalby and Chell had seen his thunderous expression. If she didn't know Chakotay in the last two months reasonably well and thought the universe a very small place that chance meetings could have taken place at some point, she could have sworn Chakotay knew Seska and hated her. Yet, it couldn't be possible. Chakotay had never been to that home world and Seska was - or had been - a married woman. Not that the ties of marriage could stop anyone from knowing another person or being friends with another being. She knew it was not possible that he could have known Seska, but his reaction, the way Chakotay's whole body stiffened as he saw the battered Bajoran woman... B'Elanna shook her head as she made her way to Seska's cabin. Knowing how Chakotay was attached to Kathryn Janeway - she had caught him often inadvertently looking at the photographs on his desk whenever she was in consultation with him - she knew him to be loyal to one partner. Something about Chakotay just struck her that way. Whomever he may have been married to, he would honour that marriage, and more particularly a union with Kathryn Janeway. He bore his cross well, she thought. His entire family had been murdered on Dorvan V, and she had heard too, that until his child was born, he had been separated from his wife for many months. No one knew exactly what happened or why they had been separated. Whatever the reason, he loved his wife desperately. In was in the way his eyes gave him away when he couldn't take them off the woman in the photo.

Now he had, what she thought, an irrational dislike of a woman he had never seen before. It wasn't as if he couldn't take her on as a member of his crew. He had never seen Gerron before; Chakotay had thought she herself was a man when he went looking for Torres almost two months ago. Yet, he took them on trust, trust in Dalby's assessment of them. The way that Chakotay reacted to Seska was just so different, as if a subliminal signal alerted him to danger in the way some animals sensed it, and then prepared to protect themselves.

She felt drawn to Seska, and she conceded their common ordeal at the hands of Cardassians fostered that feeling. The woman was beautiful, but B'Elanna was in little doubt that her beauty was all that recommended her. She had asked questions about the ship's specs, its communications and engineering where B'Elanna spent most of her time. It wasn't because she was nosy; B'Elanna had seen the keen look of interest in her eyes when she was told the size of the vessel and that the hulls of at least two Romulan derelicts made up the entire vessel.

"A true collection of parts, according to the Boss," she had told Seska earlier.

"The Boss?"

"That's what we call him sometimes."

"I don't think he wants me here," Seska replied. "I don't belong here."

"Why are you saying that? You have me, Chell, Gerron and Ayala on your side - "

"No, that's not what I meant. Your leader - "

"The Boss?"

"Yes. He - he seemed disturbed somehow, by my presence. I don't want to imposition you. I can go to Alkorea where you said you took refugees..." Seska's words trailed, her meaning heavy was she whispered the last words.

"Listen to me, Seska," she told the Bajoran, "Chakotay will not reject you. I know he'll consider the situation we're ourselves in, needing so many medical supplies, a good communications officer, someone to lend a hand in engineering - "

"I am capable," Seska replied, "and I do know a power coupling from a warp core."

"I don't doubt that, Seska," she told her new friend. "But let me speak with him first, okay?"

Seska had given her a grateful look. Her lower lip trembled and B'Elanna could see that she struggled to keep her composure. B'Elanna wanted to murder those Cardassians who raped Seska. They found traces three Cardassians' semen on her body. Seska looked like she still needed to sleep to recover fully from her ordeal.

"I hope he takes me. I can be of service. You helped me; you saved my life - "

"Hey, it's not a big deal. It's what we do. Chak - "

"Chak?"

"Yeah. Chakotay, he saved my life too. Killed five Cardassians without blinking an eye."

Seska paled visibly when B'Elanna told her that. B'Elanna saw her discomfiture, her shocked expression, then laughed out loud.

"That's exactly how I felt and must have looked. He never really explained even though I asked a hundred times, how he could kill any man like that. But Seska, that's Chakotay for you. He doesn't take well to being interrogated or just questioned about his private life."

Seska's colour had returned and she smiled. There was a humorous glint in her eyes.

"Chakotay has a private life?"

"That's the spirit. Before you know it, you'll think you've always lived here on the Liberty."

"Thank you again, B'Elanna, for saving my life."

"You're welcome. Just don't get too personal with Chakotay. He'll eat you for breakfast."

"I'll remember that."

B'Elanna reached Seska's cabin and pressed the chime. Seconds later she stood before an anxious Seska who was wringing her hands together as she anticipated B'Elanna's report. Seska was dressed in similar dark brown clothing that was functional more than it enhanced beauty, but on the Bajoran woman, who was taller than B'Elanna, it looked good. B'Elanna smiled broadly as she grasped Seska's hands in her own.

"It's a deal."

Seska gave a huge sigh of relief and sank gratefully down on her bunk. Then she got to her feet again and gave B'Elanna a tight hug.

"I owe you, B'Elanna. I could help you in engineering - "

"You're on. Just don't drag your feet, Seska. I run a very tight little department."

"I'll not disappoint you."

"You'd better not," B'Elanna said. "Now, let's get going before Chakotay notices our absence from engineering."

B'Elanna grabbed Seska's wrists and pulled her towards the door. Minutes later the women were in engineering, Seska slightly out of breath as she took her place at the small station B'Elanna appointed her to.

"For now, you can study the ship's specs and get acquainted with the Liberty. You have two hours."

Half an hour later B'Elanna watched the smile that slowly formed across Seska's features, and noted the way Seska looked very closely at the monitor when she studied the specs of the Liberty. B'Elanna stood closer and frowned, then laughed out loud.

"Hey, that's Chakotay's quarters."

"I can dream, can't I?"

"So soon?"

"And why not?" Seska asked, smiling.

"Seska, smile some more until you'll turn blue in the face. Than man is spoken for. Really, really spoken for."

***

The woman was danger, Chakotay thought, ten days later. He should have thrown her out when she came on board. Strange woman. He never felt the empathy for her ordeal that he felt for B'Elanna. Seska stared at him moments too long. He was not a vain man, but the way Seska looked at him sometimes when he was on the bridge or walked to engineering to speak with B'Elanna, gave him cold shivers. She was beautiful, he admitted, but that was all. He could admire in a platonic way or even coldly clinical way - if one could be so coldly rational - the beauty of Seska. Still, there was the way she could stare directly at him as if she expected him to respond to some unspoken message.

He had never been within three feet of her, like he had been with B'Elanna, yet he felt an unease he couldn't quite explain. He knew it was not fair to reject Seska on sight; he was not that type to do so out of hand. With B'Elanna Torres it was different. B'Elanna evoked in him something fiercely protective, and the nights in the last ten days that she had her nightmares, he had done the same drill: she walked to his cabin, pressed the chime and on his command she would enter, looking thoroughly spooked.

Spooked and afraid. Her hair and eyes would be wild, and there'd be the remnants of tears. Once her hand had covered her lower abdomen as if she were trying to fend off her unknown attacker. He had wanted to swear to high heaven, but knew it wasn't what B'Elanna needed in those moments. There would be nothing spoken between them as he wrapped a blanket round her and held her until she became calm again. Then he'd walk her back to her cabin and remain with her until she fell asleep again. Chakotay smiled inwardly. He was probably the only person who saw her at her most vulnerable. In the bright light of a cold morning, B'Elanna would be herself again, coldly efficient or more often than not, explosive, as she organised her department. As if her trauma never happened, she'd be busy giving orders or beating her already battered engines into life.

The last time she came to his cabin he had given her his code.

"Don't knock, B'Elanna. Just come in and wake me up if I'm sleeping, okay?"

B'Elanna, lying snugly under the blankets in her bunk, her eyes already drooping, nodded wordlessly. Never, unless he counted Winonah or his mother or Sekaya or Kathryn or his daughter, had he felt the need to protect so strongly. He'd kill again if anyone hurt B'Elanna.

With this Seska, there was too much of the unknown about her, too much of a mystery. Therefore, any empathy he might have had, even in a minimal amount, was lessened by the looks she had given him in the last few days.

He had to admit that B'Elanna's attachment to and defence of a lonely Bajoran woman tipped the scales in Seska's favour. It didn't eradicate that deep mistrust he had of Seska, so he played a waiting game, waiting for the first moment Seska might trip over herself.

Chakotay remembered the connection he felt to Gerron that first day when the kid entered the ready room. He also felt sorry for Gerron. The kid was still too young to be thrown into the kind of subversive activities the Maquis were involved in. He had lost his parents; his two friends had been killed.

"So you say they killed your parents on Bajor?"

"Yes, sir."

Gerron looked sullen, and his lips trembled slightly in an unsmiling face. The moment Gerron had answered him, the boy looked away, finding a spot on the opposite bulkhead that seemed to take his interest.

"Look at me when I speak."

Chakotay had hardly raised his voice above his normal tenor, but he reckoned there was a sharp edge to it. Gerron rocked to attention.

"Yes, sir."

Chakotay had pursed his lips. The kid...he still looked so fresh-faced, as innocent as Tomaso had been. At the thought of Tomaso Chakotay felt a constriction in his chest. Gerron had looked him in the eyes, and Chakotay wondered as he always did, how, in the face of the most vicious adversity, when life threw them cruel curve balls, a boy like Gerron could still have that look of pride in his eyes. It was not an insolent look. As if Gerron temporarily shook of his fear of Chakotay, the terror of being with an unknown group of people, his eyes had what Chakotay had seen in most Bajorans: pride in his cultural identity. He had sent the boy away in the care and tutelage of Ayala, and now, ten days later, Gerron could fly the Limpet better than Ayala and almost as good as Tom Paris.

Seska distinguished herself in engineering and communications like she promised B'Elanna, although he had a hard time acknowledging her expertise. Like Gerron she was Bajoran and God help him; unlike Gerron, her eyes showed none of the pride of being Bajoran. There lay the critical rub. How could she not look proud of who she was? He always thought it was instinctive, an unconscious bearing of race and culture. How often hadn't Kathryn told him he was more Native American than he'd care to admit because she said it was in his bearing and he hardly realised it? He saw that in Gerron, even saw B'Elanna's proud bearing sometimes when no one looked. Now Seska...

Mostly, Seska looked like she wanted to conquer him.

A fleeting image of Kathryn the night she ran from him on Dorvan V came to him and for a moment only, he gave a cry of pain. He was never going to hurt her again. Never.

Yet, he needed to know what Seska was up to. He smiled to himself. It wouldn't be a bad idea, he thought, to get to know what Seska was up to. She definitely had an agenda... Not so long ago he told B'Elanna that even Bajorans could be traitors.

Even Bajorans.

He hoped fervently that he was wrong and that he wronged Seska.

***

"I'm almost there," Seska murmured to herself as she studied the data on the computer she had inveigled into her cabin. She gave a snort. In different circumstances maybe, she could have been very close friends with B'Elanna Torres. Now, she didn't have time to conjure up a conscience in the knowledge that poor Torres would be hurt by her betrayal.

She had a job to do and once again, Chakotay was gullible. Slowly, over the last fifteen days, she closed the distance between them. First, in the small sick bay, with a very concerned B'Elanna looking on, Chell the Bolian and Henley had treated her wounds. Not once did she flinch as they worked on her. Even now, she recalled how her body had been pleasured when the Cardassian warriors copulated with her. She had incited them to be as wild as they could be, even rape her if they liked.

They liked.

She rejoiced.

It made her injuries so much more authentic and when Chell had to remove her clothes, she affected a posture of outrage until they called in Mariah Henley. Together, Mariah and B'Elanna took note of her injuries, repaired damage to torn skin, broken rib, her pubic area that looked rather wasted. The women made little sounds of sympathy and once, during the process of regeneration and healing, B'Elanna had made a sound as if she wanted to retch her guts out.

Good for her.

It was Chakotay she had to get to. The man stood in the door of the sick bay and kept his distance. What was it about him that made him do that? She knew her arrival on the Liberty was more unorthodox than Gerron's or even B'Elanna's had been. It was a good way of getting their attention, preying on the old Federation sympathy - though she thought the Federation's stance with the Dorvans and other homeworlds sacked by the Cardassians very typical of a Cardassian strategy - that took in lame dogs and sick puppies. She was one very sick puppy that came to the attention of the right persons, thanks to that stupid Gerron whose friends they had to murder afterwards.

Where on that first day there had been that distance between her and Chakotay, it had become narrowed down to just one metre. Now she could see his eyes and remember that she hated him even as she loved him. This time though, she knew that she had a mission, and that mission debarred any feelings of sympathy, any emotional connection that might betray her. She hated him, yet how she could do that while her body craved for him had been a supreme test of endurance, greater than not crying out when the Warriors raped her. She was whittling down Chakotay's resistance, and very soon, if not tonight, she would have come much closer than just the small space between them.

Just a few hours ago, Chakotay had returned her look she gave him. It was much longer than the day before when he also looked at her, his eyes warm on her. Seska played a waiting game. When he looked at her today, it was as much as she could hope. She was winning him over. She didn't think it was any pity that Torres had to be in the vicinity when it happened and frowned at the way she had been bold enough to challenge his look. It strengthened her resolve and made his pending downfall far more poignant. She had smiled back at him and was gratified when he didn't look at her as if she were worse than the Cardassian cat-walker. No, negate that thought, she admonished herself. The Cardassian cat-walker was a noble, fleet-footed animal very much like Earth's black leopard. No, it was the _horasp_ that no one liked. Yes, before, Chakotay had looked at her like she was _horasp_ , something filthy, obnoxious. Seska looked at the ring on her finger and grinned. No one was expected to recognise it, not even Chakotay. The head was the head of the cat-walker, a ring Gul Evek had given her when she told him how she planned to get Chakotay. She would make the Boss, as most of the crew called him, writhe above her in an orgasmic explosion before she would strike...

Seska gave a sigh of pleasure. All she had to do now, was to close in on her subject since he wasn't denying her now. The thrill of anticipating the kill rippled through her body. She smelled victory. Just thinking about him, how he had looked at her with love in his eyes even when he thought she was Kathryn, aroused her senses and whet her appetite. She itched; her skin tingled; a moistness settled in her lower region. It made her get up from her bunk and move to her door. Chakotay would be in his office or what they termed their ready room at this moment. She had studied his movements thoroughly over the last fifteen days and knew that just before he retired for the night, Chakotay spent time in his office.

It shocked her some months ago when he boarded the Vetar, that Chakotay wiped from her ship's computers every single record she had of him, of their sex romps, of all the conversations she initiated with him and in which she, with hindsight now, made such a fool of herself. That he wiped away all the leverage, all the _evidence_ she had against him, against the Federation, against Janeway and - she sighed at the thought - other Cardassian high dignitaries whose wives would have been very disgruntled indeed at the way their husbands had been blackmailed, had made her blindingly angry. She had underestimated Chakotay then. Wholly underestimated a man she thought was a walkover. Up to a point she had succeeded, but Chakotay... He hacked into her systems so cleanly and so completely that it still left her stunned. Yes, she had been angry when she realised that her files had been deleted permanently. That anger had followed the humiliation at the way Chakotay turned on her, at the shame when Gul Evek fucked her afterwards and at the hopeless realisation that she had been a class A fool.

"Hey, you going somewhere, Seska?" Ayala asked as he passed her in the corridor. Aroused from her deep thoughts, she smiled at him.

"Chakotay has asked to see me."

"The Boss? He never - "

"But he has, so if you'll excuse me. I believe there'll be trouble if I'm not on time."

She could kill Ayala with her bare hands for looking so sceptical.

"See you later then, Seska."

"Take care!" she called after him when he stumbled and grinned sheepishly at her.

The smile turned into a smirk.

Fools.

When she reached the ready room, her movements were calm, unhurried as she pressed the chime and heard instantly the command to enter.

When she stood inside the door and heard it swish close behind her, she took in her fill of the picture before her. Chakotay stood reading a PADD, and when he looked up, only the nerve that twitched in his jaw was any outward sign that he was either surprised or shocked at her entry. He looked as she always imagined he'd look: rough, aggressive, hard-nailed with little of the softness she knew that lurked in him. It was the way she liked him. The planes of his face were rugged, hard, his narrowed eyes not so much steely as they were contemplative, speculative. This was no time to wonder whether he looked at her with speculation or anything else. She took a step forward and he put down the PADD as she stopped right in front of him, much closer than the metre of three days ago when she all but had to drill herself to keep calm. She had never expected Chakotay to recognise her, yet suddenly, she wished that he did look at her with some recognition in his eyes, some acknowledgement that once she had been joined to his body. It was the down side of her job. She wanted him to know it was Sedeka who would seduce him again and kill him. As Sedeka she'd not get to within ten parsecs of Chakotay. Yeah, she sighed as a momentary regret gripped her, she'd have liked to see recognition in his eyes. Strange how the thought that she had wanted to be pregnant by him catapulted itself in her brain. A vision of her holding an infant suddenly crept upon her. A moment only she faltered, then she gathered herself.

"I don't recall asking you to come here, Seska," Chakotay said as he half seated himself on the desk, his leg dangling as he braced himself.

"You didn't."

"So I'm not amnesiac after all," he countered, smiling for the first time.

"No, I should hope not, Chakotay," she said, her voice low and hoarse, a slow drawl that she thought brought a warmth in his eyes. "Because, this..." she started, raising her hand to his shoulder and caressing it, giving a little squeeze at the point just above his shoulder-blade, "is what I desire you to remember.." Did she imagine she heard a soft moan? She watched how his eyes closed.

Good...

She positioned herself closer, standing in the crook of his legs and tentatively touched the tattoo, her fingers grazing his lips as her hands explored his cheek. She thrilled when his legs squeezed against her. It was pointless to will away the moistness between her legs as her body responded to him. Chakotay's hand came up and covered hers, pressing his lips into her palm at the same time. The heat of his hand burned into her. Seska felt the desire overwhelm her as she inhaled his cologne. It reminded her of Dorvan V and how close she had been to him. A low groan escaped her. For a few moments she leaned into him, her body succumbing to the wild waves of ecstasy that coursed through her.

"Chakotay..." she breathed hoarsely as she lifted her face to his. His eyes had a deep glow in them, a gleam that she, with the last modicum of restraint she had that could enable her to think rationally, knew was one of passion. He exhaled and the waft of his breath caught her, fanned her face and she gave another soft moan as she felt his hand leave hers to cup the back of her head and nudge her gently closer to him.

"You were married, Seska..." he whispered against her mouth.

"Azar is dead..."

"I know," he said, before he lowered his head further and Seska knew that the moment had come. The skin of her lips changed to an electrical field that kept sparking as Chakotay's mouth touched hers. A deep groan escaped him as he deepened the kiss. Under her thumb that grazed his neck, she felt the vibration of that groan. His smell was even stronger, she thought absently as she lost herself in the enjoyment of the kiss. His tongue nudged, her mouth opened under his and then she gave a long moan as Chakotay's tongue plunged deep inside her mouth. He sucked at her, nipped and licked; she gave him pleasure for pleasure as she returned his kisses. The moments he left her mouth, his searing lips blazed a trail all over her face, her neck, her open mouth. Soft cries filled the room as he pressed himself against her and she could feel his arousal. His hand was in her hair, and fumbling with the pins, her hair fell about her face in long tresses. "Seska..." he murmured as he pulled her head back and she felt his lips burning into her neck skin, nipping into soft flesh, then brushing, caressing as his moist tongue lapped at her. His other hand cupped her breast and squeezed. She gave a groan of pleasure as at the same time his mouth captured hers again, tearing at her lower lip, then covering her mouth, his tongue once again plundering deep inside. Unaccountably, she felt a sting of tears as he held her close to him so that she could feel his arousal. Her heart sang as his lips worshipped her eyes, kissed her fevered forehead, then brushed against her lips. He breathed heavily, his face flushed with desire as she looked dazedly at him.

Then Chakotay stopped abruptly, leaving her completely bereft. Before she could ask in a bemused manner why he stopped, Chakotay looked over her head, to the door of the ready room.

"B'Elanna..."

Seska turned and saw B'Elanna standing in the door - a shocked B'Elanna who stood rooted to the spot, her mouth gaping.

"Chakotay? Seska?" she managed at last. Chakotay let go of her and slipped off the desk. Seska clasped his arm, her stance defiant.

"Hello, B'Elanna," she said to the shocked engineer. But B'Elanna's eyes were on Chakotay.

"Hey, it's not like your wife is around," B'Elanna said quickly as her eyes shot sparks at Chakotay, "you can do what you like. You're the Boss..."

"B'Elanna, it's not what you think - " he tried and Seska thought how ridiculous he sounded. Did he tell Kathryn that the first time? B'Elanna burst out laughing.

"Hell, no, it's not what I think, that's for sure, Chakotay."

Chakotay gave a little cough. He looked embarrassed, thought Seska, but his eyes still glowed from their kisses, even his lips appeared redder. She walked to her friend. B'Elanna was still glued to the floor in the doorway of the ready room.

"I know this comes as a shock to you, B'Elanna," she said softly, "but Chakotay and I..." Seska deliberately let her words trail, giving B'Elanna the full benefit of conjecturing on Chakotay's supposed disinterest in a Bajoran refugee he fought so hard not to keep on board. "Look, can we talk later?" She smiled at B'Elanna.

"I - I don't know what to - to say," B'Elanna stammered, her voice deflated suddenly.

Chakotay had in the meantime approached B'Elanna and without touching Seska again, though she still reeled from the turbulent waves of passion his kiss and body created in them, he came to stand next to her. Seska looked up at Chakotay, and he looked at her. She milked the little scene in front of B'Elanna, leaving the half-human, half-Klingon in little doubt that there was much between her and Chakotay. His kiss had been genuinely enjoyable; she still felt the thrill coursing through her body. She touched Chakotay's arm in a proprietorial gesture, one that claimed the cell leader for herself. Her hands had been all over him minutes ago and the way his body responded, was too real for her to think he never meant it. He was attracted to her again, even though she was Bajoran now. The old chemistry was there.

Seska had great hope that her mission would succeed. Very great hope. So she turned to look at Chakotay who smiled down at her that her heart pumped wildly.

"I'll go now, Chakotay," she breathed seductively. "B'Elanna obviously has a few things to discuss - "

B'Elanna didn't wait for her to finish speaking. She swung round and stalked out of the ready room. They heard a loud thump as her fist connected with a bulkhead. When they couldn't hear B'Elanna's footsteps anymore, Chakotay turned Seska so that she could stand in his embrace and look up at him.

"Remember one thing, Seska," he started with an edge to his voice, yet still smiling at her, "it's my call, every time. I don't want you barging in here again like that, you hear me?"

"But, Chakotay - "

"I mean it, Seska. I admit I'm attracted..."

He didn't finish speaking, but instead, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, breathing deeply as he took in her scent. His arms clamped round her shoulders as he pressed her close to him and he groaned again before releasing her, looking with smouldering eyes at her.

"Oh, Chakotay..." she whispered before she buried her face against his chest. When she lifted her face to him, her lips parted as she expected his own lips on hers, he did just that. For a few mad seconds he kissed her, burning kisses that she wondered how she could let him go. When he stopped eventually, he was breathing hard.

"Go now, Seska, before I strip you down and make love to you..."

"Chakotay..."

"Go."

She gave a sigh of pleasure before she backed away from him slowly, her movements lazy, seductive. A few seconds later she walked down the corridor to her cabin.

_I'm almost there, Evek. I'm almost there. He's still attracted to me. I've broken down his resistance. Just one more day, and my task will be complete._

_One more day..._

***

Chakotay wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The movement was jerky, angered. His arousal had long settled into its normal state. His face creased; he was still shuddering as he remembered Seska's mouth under his. When he closed his eyes, a burn settled behind his eyelids. He felt suddenly nauseous. He turned quickly and walked round his desk, marveling at the way he felt unsteady on his feet, how the release of tension caused him to shiver. His eyes caught Kathryn's face in the frame and picking up the photo, he gave a hoarse, despairing cry. Kathryn appeared to look straight at him. She was laughing into the imager. He remembered the day he took that picture. She had been happy, her blue dress lapping about her ankles, her hands smudged with dark soil.

"Come on, Chakotay. I rather like mucking around in the dirt when you're around."

She had been planting tomato seedlings at Indiana and he had been teasing her about scientists who had no green fingers that he knew of. Now he remembered that day and a sudden, deep longing for her conquered him.

"Kathryn...oh, Kathryn!" he sobbed again. "You don't know what I've done...and why..."

Something was happening. Seska was gone for the moment, but her smell still lingered on him.

Lingered on him.

He thought of Seska and a sudden image of Sedeka superimposed on Seska's face.

His stomach started to heave.

The next moment Chakotay dived into the little alcove behind him and bent over the small wash basin where he retched painfully for several minutes.

***

**END CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT**

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ding, dong...

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY NINE**

Kenneth Albrecht Dalby made his way slowly to Chakotay's ready room. The summons had come while he was checking their dwindling supplies and facing Chakotay with his preliminary report caused him to frown heavily. He had known Chakotay since they both started out in the Maquis and had grown to respect his friend a great deal. Chakotay was uncompromising and tough, but then, Ken decided, toughness was what they needed in the Maquis. Being on the run from both the Federation and the Cardassians left little time for timid pussyfooting. No one really socialised, but all were drawn together by their common bond of offering safe havens for those deprived of their homes, and of gathering medical supplies for refugees who counted on them for their support. Mostly, of course, they stole what they needed from the Federation and Cardassians and Klingons and Romulans. They weren't exactly choosy. If it was something that could do the job, that was good enough.

Besides, they didn't complain. Chakotay had given him, Ken, the opportunity to prove his worth as a first officer of a renegade vessel, and had come to trust him a great deal more than he trusted anyone else on board the Liberty. Ken had earned that trust, just as B'Elanna and Ayala had.

It was why Chakotay entrusted him with particular tasks he would give no one else on the Liberty. Chakotay knew about sacrifice and honour and freedom; whatever mission Dalby embarked on, he knew that Chakotay could count on him. Dalby sighed. Before he met Chakotay he had been angry, and wanted to lash out at anyone. Celine had just died and he had been demented those first few days after her death. Sometimes he still missed Celine like his very breath, and most nights when he dreamed of her, it was always as she looked before she died. Her terror, his own helpless rage at being unable to protect her - that had been buried where no one could touch him. Chakotay knew and understood. He didn't ever have to explain; understanding came in sympathetic eyes, in a hand that was squeezed, a consoling grip on his shoulder.

Never words.

Words couldn't quite equate with a gesture like a smile, a soft glow of compassion that was neither mushy nor detached. Just enough to make him feel that someone understood his pain. Chakotay did, and for now, that was enough for him. Celine would return in his dreams, smiling as she always did when she had news for him, or he teased her about her too long hair, or when she simply, through her smile and shining eyes said: "I love you, Ken. I will love you until my dying day."

Now Celine was dead. Chakotay had become his saviour, pulling him out of his despondency by letting him work so hard that the intense labour, the very look of gratitude on a refugee's face when she was safely escorted to a new location, made Celine's death more bearable, and her incredible sacrifice worthwhile. He didn't miss Celine so much then, but saw her in every woman he and Chakotay saved, every child whose parents had been killed and been placed with kind foster parents; every old man and woman who thanked them for saving their lives. In them Celine lived. Still, there were nights he dreamed of her and he allowed himself the luxury to dream. He was rational enough to realise that there would come a time that Celine would be just a fond memory, and that he could move on with new interests.

He had been working in close partnership with Chakotay although he was very certain he could never aspire to be the kind of leader Chakotay was, or provide the leadership the cell leader employed. Perhaps, and he was hopeful that it would happen, some of Chakotay's style and example would rub off on him. He didn’t stand in awe of Chakotay or see him as a hero like young Gerron, or Henley, or even B’Elanna Torres. Chakotay was his friend and as friends, they were equals.

A summons to Chakotay's office was not uncommon. He had often been called in a hurry, and the last time had been when Tom Paris decided being a hero meant he should cover for them when they raided a Federation medical installation. That got Tom apprehended and thrown in jail. He still felt badly about that. Tom had really done something heroic, giving him and Mariah the opportunity to hurry back while he... Ken sighed.

Chakotay had been in a foul mood for days afterwards. He had never liked Tom to begin with; secretly, Ken thought it was only because Tom charged them for piloting the Liberty and the Limpet. Paris had some big chips on his shoulder, but he was charming, endearing himself to most of the crew. Only, it rubbed Chakotay up badly that Tom Paris could be in the Maquis with nothing to recommend him except his expertise as a flyer, which came at a price. Chakotay believed everyone had to have principles and moral obligations and as far as he was concerned, Tom Paris had none.

"And, he has the finest parents who don't deserve to be treated like they're vermin."

Dalby knew that Chakotay was friends with Admiral Paris, and Doctor Paris had been his physician whenever he had been home on leave while still in Starfleet. If he asked for more information on Chakotay's knowledge of Tom's background and his own personal life, he got a look from Chakotay that said: "You wouldn't want to ruin our friendship, would you?"

He had no idea what Chakotay wanted now, but he figured the way Torres had tried to put dents in the Liberty's bulkheads with her small fists, it had to be some onboard problem serious enough that the second-in-command had to help deal with it.

He had asked Torres what the matter was. Her eyes flashed angrily when she turned on him.

"I hate Chakotay! I hate him!" was all she could get out.

Ken had wondered how B'Elanna could hate Chakotay when all she had been doing the last few months was wax lyrical about him, and stand half in awe of him. He knew Torres regarded Chakotay as something of an older brother who protected her, and whatever it was that inspired her outburst, had to disturb her very deeply. Not only did he see the angry flashes, he also sensed her disappointment. No, she was not a lovesick puppy fawning over their leader, but B'Elanna Torres had a tremendous regard for Chakotay. And why shouldn't she? He’d saved her life, just as he had saved the lives of a number of crew. Ken didn't wait to ask what troubled her so deeply. He was wary of her sudden outbursts; she was not averse to using her fists on him.

If her outburst had something to do with the way Seska had sauntered down the corridor, away from the ready room area, it was possible to put two and two together. Seska had looked like a cat that had gotten an excess of cream. It was in the way she walked, her secret little smile that never quite reached her eyes, the sway of her hips and the way she tossed her long hair. Could Seska have had some tête-à-tête with Chakotay?

He thought that highly unlikely. Chakotay was married to Kathryn Janeway, devoted and loyal to her. That much had come out of their conversation one evening when Chakotay had admitted to him how much he missed his family.

"You're my friend. I know I can trust you," Chakotay told him that night. There hadn't been much spoken afterwards, Chakotay not entirely ready to part with the more painful details of his life with a Starfleet Captain. Yet, Dalby was convinced Chakotay remained steadfastly loyal to her. He had never seen Chakotay fraternise with the females on board, and Torres was the only person with whom Chakotay had some affinity, a fiercely protective instinct.

Still, he was called to the ready room and Chakotay was going to impart something to him that should probably be kept a secret. That was the way of Chakotay. He had a computer in his cabin which was protected by layers of encryptions. He never dared ask, knowing that whatever it was that Chakotay did, their ignorance of it was their own protection. Still, it didn't stop him from conjecturing. Too often they heard how Federation vessels destroyed Cardassian strongholds that only Chakotay knew of...

When he pressed the chime, it was a muffled 'enter' he heard. The door swished open and Ken walked to the desk where Chakotay remained standing.

"You look flushed. It's either anger or...anger?"

"Yes, to both, Dalby." Chakotay's mouth twisted into a wry smile, but the smile was gone instantly.

"Something up, Chief?"

Chakotay's eyes flashed, then the dark clouds settled in them again. Dalby feared that, indeed, something was up.

"Come here," Chakotay ordered and he waved a hand to indicate Ken face the screen of the computer.

Ken looked at the screen and frowned.

"Do I know her?"

"Perhaps," Chakotay replied.

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Sedeka. She is Sub-commander of the Cardassian war vessel, the Vetar, under the command of Gul Evek."

A light dawned suddenly for Ken. He’d heard of this Cardassian woman.. There were strange tales, which were never really given any substance, mostly rumours that flew about, then died out. He knew of Gul Evek, as he should. The man had ordered the forced removal of his people from the planet Ordon. Celine...The Cardassians raped her there. He had been beaten to a pulp. He had often wondered why they didn't kill him too. But his punishment and pain was to leave him alive to live with the trauma and guilt.

"I know of Evek," he said tightly, "and I’ve heard of this woman's exploits..."

Chakotay looked at him and for a moment Dalby shrank back from the sharpness and bitterness of his gaze. A faint film of perspiration formed on Chakotay's upper lip. Was the man nervous? Ken wondered. It was Eddington who told him that a beautiful Cardassian woman played fast and loose with major guls in the Cardassian Union. They called her a strange name, an _abhail_... The woman on the screen was beautiful. Did Chakotay have some connection to her?

"Sedeka almost destroyed me," Chakotay said. "She ruined Kathryn's life and mine. Sedeka is a calculating, manipulating woman who will let nothing stand in the way of her mission."

"Where did you first meet her?" Ken asked as he studied the face of Sedeka again.

"On Dorvan V."

His eyes met Chakotay's.

"I...understand - "

"No, I don't think you do, Dalby. This woman manipulated me into a situation that Kathryn happened upon. After that, my marriage was destroyed. It was the Cardassians' way of getting rid of me, getting me off Dorvan V or rendering me incapable of attending the crucial peace talks there last year. That Kathryn got hurt in the process was just another unexpected bonus for them."

"The Treaty that the Cardassians signed and violated over and over?"

"Yeah, Dalby. This woman will stop at nothing, I assure you. After Kathryn left me, Sedeka continued to harass her. Then in November last year, I took revenge. I boarded the Vetar and deleted all the files Sedeka had on me and Kathryn. I poisoned her with the same hallucinogen she’d used on me. When I sent samples of my blood, my urine, the food, the wine, Sedeka's DNA - "

"Her DNA?"

Chakotay coughed, then gave a small sigh.

"I scraped her fluids from my body, the bed, the sheets and sent that on too..."

"Okay, I get the message."

"We found a complicated concoction of a hallucinogen that could literally, blow your mind..."

"And?"

"Sergei - "

"Sergei?" Ken wondered for a moment why he sounded stupid. He knew this conversation was going somewhere, that Chakotay was telling him something crucial. Somewhere he knew, he was going to be part of whatever solution Chakotay had for this particular problem, if indeed, Sedeka presented another problem to him.

"Doctor Sergei Karkoff, my best friend, lately based at Starfleet Medical but not there at the moment."

Ken hadn't wanted to ask where Sergei was. He didn't want to risk another 'ruin the friendship' look.

"What about Sergei?"

"I manufactured the hallucinogen from his notes. I had told him not to destroy his research in case we might need it again some day. I remembered his words, that Sedeka alive was more dangerous than Sedeka dead. I should have killed her then..." Chakotay said reflectively.

"She died and came back from the dead, so to speak?"

Chakotay nodded.

"How?"

Chakotay's eyes had a flinty shine in them. His mouth though, was stiff as if he tried to smile and couldn't. Ken noticed how Chakotay's fingers trembled as he touched the face of the Cardassian woman.

"I have reason to believe that she is here, on the Liberty."

Ken laughed. "Help me out here, Chakotay. There's no Cardassian crew on this vessel. The only Cardassian I know of among Federation people is Garak at Deep Space Nine..."

Chakotay gripped Ken's shoulder.

"How did Seska get on this vessel?" Chakotay's question came out of the blue.

What did Seska have to do with the Cardassian in the picture? Ken wondered. He must have voiced his thoughts aloud when he saw Chakotay frown. Ken laughed again.

"Come on, Chakotay. Seska is a Bajoran. I'm certain you noticed that," he said lightly, unable to believe what Chakotay was implying. It was an allegation of the highest order, something completely fantastic and too unlikely to be believed.

"Look, Ken, I'm pretty certain I'm not mistaken. Now, how did Seska get on this vessel?"

Chakotay's words, his very tone suggested that Ken had better reply or be neck pinched by a person other than a Vulcan. The man was as strong as an ox. If Chakotay were living on a farm in the twentieth century, he would have been able to lift two bales of hay simultaneously. Ken placed his own hand on the hand that still dug into his skin, and slowly removed it. He rubbed the tender area for a second.

"No one recommended her," he said finally.

"And?"

"She was an unknown. Her appearance on that planet was too co-incidental. But Chak, you're wanting to blame a Bajoran - "

"Keep talking to me, Dalby," Chakotay barked suddenly and Ken blanched at Chakotay's sharp tone. He hadn't wanted to talk about it before; his thoughts were merely conjectures, but he _had_ been wondering about it.

"Well, she seems apparently unconcerned about being Bajoran, like the pride we see in Gerron sometimes. She displays tendencies of aggression and she never appears to mourn her husband. While that may be a moot point, the way she was treated by the Cardassians didn't seem to bother her much, afterwards."

"Ken, the woman was gang-raped, most probably on her own instruction."

Dalby turned ice-cold at Chakotay's words. He was certain that his shock at the outrageous claims of his leader had to show in his face, because Chakotay burst out laughing - a high, strained cackle that sounded very unlike him.

"I see you don't believe me."

"The - the evidence...she couldn't..." he started, but Chakotay's hand went up to silence him.

"What else did you notice?" Chakotay asked.

Chakotay forced him to think. B'Elanna, he knew, had had nightmares since she came on board and he surmised that Chakotay had saved her from a similar fate. Seska looked like she had completely forgotten about the horror of her ordeal unless, like Chakotay stated, it was brilliantly staged. If that were so, where did Gerron fit in all of it? Gerron had been found at the scene near the plaza where B'Elanna, Ayala and Morrison were to rendezvous with him. Gerron who looked completely out of it... Gerron who was supposed to be there with his friend... As if a thought struck him suddenly, drew in his breath sharply.

"Gerron! He said Sharuk knew a Bajoran woman called Seska. And Chak...I don't recall him ever referring to a husband..."

"I see you're beginning to see the picture. Did Gerron tell you how his friend Sharuk died?"

He’d never asked the kid. Gerron was sullen most of the time, closed off from everyone except B'Elanna and Ayala, with whom he sometimes talked. He had given Gerron an invitation several months ago to join their cell. Gerron's parents had died on Bajor; he’d escaped with two friends and made their way to Komari. Other than that, he knew little else about Gerron. Both friends had been alive then, and all three had looked equally scared, very, very young to be drifting about the sectors like they were. He met Gerron just before Enzo died, and that had been almost two months ago, now. Sharuk had been with Gerron and Sharuk had looked...guilty?

"His friend Sharuk was murdered after he told Gerron to make contact with us," Chakotay broke into his thoughts. "Did you know Sharuk's parents are on Cardassia Prime, held as hostages?"

Ken gave a low whistle as the truth of the set-up struck him. The Cardassians really were scum of the universe. Holding a young kid's parents hostage was a scum thing to do, but then the Cardassians were notorious for their unique and terrible atrocities. Most likely by now, Sharuk's parents were dead as well.

"My God. The poor kids were set up," he said sympathetically. "They killed them, letting Gerron live to witness the pick-up by us."

"Old Federation trait - they pick up the lame ducks. They knew Gerron had made contact, since Sharuk encouraged him to do so, most likely on the Cardassians' instruction. Therefore Torres, Ayala and Morrison's arrival was known to them. The Cardies then staged the lame duck scene and very realistic it was, too. Also, very typical of the lengths Sedeka would go to, to make it look real and evoke Maquis sympathy. Aren't we freedom fighters who rally around Bajorans and every other displaced individual in the universe? Therefore, Dalby, we've been had. A spy slipped on board and who knows, after ten days, what damage has been done? They know this vessel is on its way to Alkorea, and, they know the co-ordinates. I'll dare any Cardassian vessel, or Federation vessel for that matter, to make it through the plasma turbulences in the Badlands. They'll not catch us..."

Ken Dalby shook his head in amazement. Every word Chakotay spoke rang true; they were in danger of being intercepted. How did Chakotay know all this? Still, he had to ask about the Bajoran woman who, in hindsight, he realised looked like a predator.

"This Sedeka, you say, in some way turned herself into a Bajoran?"

"Ken, have you noticed our conversation is secured?"

"I didn't want to mention it." Earlier he had seen the little icon in the shape of a dog at the bottom of the screen. Once before he asked about the dog, and Chakotay simply barked: "She's called Ceara". He hadn't wanted to question Chakotay further. The man clamped up after that. Naturally, once Ceara appeared, no one could hear them talking.

"I'm taking no risks," Chakotay said, "but yes, somehow Sedeka underwent major operations to convert her from Cardassian to Bajoran. She's on a mission - "

"We're talking about Seska, right?"

"Right."

"So tell me, Chakotay, how did you know other than the complicated set-up down to the beatings and rape?"

"Two things, Dalby."

He was all ears. There was something Chakotay knew that he didn't know, and he was going to be apprised of it in the next few seconds. It was why he had been summoned. Chakotay wasn't only revealing to him this terrible truth because he wanted a good shoulder to unburden himself. If all of it were true, and he had no reason to doubt it then they had a problem, and he was going to be part of the solution.

"Tell me."

"When have you ever seen a Bajoran wear a ring with a Cardassian cat-walker as its head?"

"That ornate ring? I thought her late husband gave it to her. A cat-walker?"

"Found only on Cardassia Prime. One time Sedeka, when she communicated with me in her stupid and unguarded moments, likened me to their Cardassian cat-walker. I went into the Federation database and got a good look at the indigenous fauna of Cardassia Prime. She miscalculated by thinking no one would recognise the ring. It was probably given to her by Gul Evek."

"Okay, so what's the second one?"

"You might not believe this, but Sedeka's pheromones gave her away."

If it weren't so serious, Ken would have laughed outright. Chakotay's expression all but dared him to laugh at him. Ken shook his head. The only way in which Chakotay would know how a Cardassian's pheromones could betray her was...

"You kissed her."

"I stopped just short of stripping her. But it did the trick. I kissed Seska and all the time I smelled Sedeka as she smelled on my body on Dorvan V and when I visited her on the Vetar..."

Chakotay was quiet a few minutes after he shut off Sedeka's picture from the computer. When he looked at Ken again, there was a sad expression in his eyes. Ken felt suddenly sorry for this man who, he knew, had suffered so much.

"I gather you have reconciled with your wife, Chakotay," he said.

"Aye. On the day she gave birth to our baby I was privileged to be there and be forgiven by her..."

Ken didn't ask any more questions about Kathryn Janeway. Chakotay's eyes had a misty shine in them, a yearning look as he picked up the photograph of Kathryn. Then he put the photo down and faced Ken again. Ken sensed Chakotay wasn't finished.

"There's more?" he asked Chakotay.

Chakotay nodded. "Every time after the previous two sojourns with Sedeka - she trapped me completely the first time, you know - I retched my guts out."

"Like you did before I came in."

"Aye. I literally can't stand her smell. Now all we have to do is flush Seska out. She's up to something, Dalby, and I am her target. She wants me dead. There's a computer in her cabin. I put it there deliberately where she could pilfer it without it seeming to be listed as missing on the Liberty."

Chakotay gave him a quirky smile. Ken was in charge of supplies. He grinned sheepishly. He hadn't noticed that one of the computers was gone. Real state of the art Federation stuff they’d stolen from a derelict after one of the skirmishes with the Cardassians in which several Federation vessels were destroyed.

"Hell, Chakotay."

Chakotay patted his shoulder and nodded kindly. He had a look that apologised for withholding information from him, but Ken understood the need for security on the Liberty and in the Maquis.

"I'm playing her at her own game, Dalby," Chakotay said. "There's no other way. With Seska, if you can't match her cunning, you're dead."

Ken thought if Cardassian physicists and doctors could carry out weird and inhumane experiments on Bajoran slaves and prisoners, they could do anything. Seska was a Cardassian in a Bajoran body. If Chakotay said it was so, who was he to refute him? Besides, all the evidence was simply overwhelming against Seska. She had an altogether too furtive look when she thought no one was watching her.

"How will we flush her out?" Ken asked, excitement brewing in him.

"Okay, Ken. I've thought about it. She's probably going to strike in the next twenty four hours. If she has to report to Gul Evek, she's on a short leash. I've made her think I want her badly."

"I noticed."

"You did?"

"Back in the corridor she looked like she was walking on air."

"She's in for a very nasty surprise, Dalby."

Chakotay switched on his console again, and gestured for Dalby to take a close look.

"So tell me, Chakotay, how are we going to neutralise Seska?"

Chakotay smiled at Ken, then looked at the monitor again.

"Here's what I propose we do..."

****

B'Elanna cornered Seska in engineering. The spanner she waved as she approached Seska almost damaged the Bajoran's nose. Seska stood her ground and pushed the offending tool away from her with the palm of her hand.

"Come on, B'Elanna. I'm sure you know it was going to happen soon."

"Chakotay never falls for anyone," B'Elanna bit out. She refused to back away from Seska. "What have you done with him?"

"I kissed him, B'Elanna. I kissed him, he kissed me back. End of story, as you say, isn't it?"

"He's married. To a beautiful woman who's a Starfleet Captain."

B'Elanna knew her words held little sway, but she had to say it anyway. Still, her new friend didn't seem to have any principles where fraternising with the Boss was concerned. And Chakotay... She wanted to kill him too for looking like he enjoyed kissing Seska. She growled and Seska quickly put her hands up again.

"He kissed me, Torres, married or not, he kissed me. He even touched me...here..." Seska's hand went to her breast, the other lowering over her abdomen. B'Elanna gave a little cry at the crude way Seska demonstrated Chakotay's actions. "B'Elanna, I know you worship Chakotay. He's your hero, but even heroes can have feet of clay. When I kissed him, all he had to do was push me away if he wasn't interested. He was interested, my friend. Very interested. I'm sorry if you're disappointed - "

B'Elanna stared at Seska for several long minutes. Then she slowly dropped her arm, with the spanner dangling loosely from her hand. Seska gave a sigh of relief, but smiled nonetheless at B'Elanna's action. B'Elanna stepped away from Seska and walked to her own station where she occupied herself with listing the damage to the Liberty and the Limpet, and organising her repair programme. Not that a schedule meant anything on the Liberty. They all operated mostly on crisis management, and certain areas that required attention immediately, got it. Others had to wait. One day she had jokingly referred to her methods as Engineering Triage, when Chakotay had been down to check on her progress. There were also no replicators in most of the small cabins; she was in the process of slowly converting old ones they pilfered from Federation installations on homeworlds previously under its jurisdiction and, which fell within the Demilitarised Zone. Dalby got a few when they stripped an old derelict they came across after one of the Federation offensives against Cardassia.

She gave a sigh. Now, all she could do was occupy herself with thoughts of what she had seen in his ready room. She had never expected Chakotay to do what he had. He was fiercely devoted to his wife. So many times since she’d come on board, she’d seen how he looked longingly at her picture.’ Chakotay was a principled man who would never betray his wife by doing what he did. That was what she thought. That kiss... Hell, the way his hands had been all over Seska, and the way Seska responded, brought a furious burn of resentment to her heart. She wasn't jealous by any means, but she believed Chakotay was a man who couldn't look at another woman with lust in his eyes, even if he tried. Seska had been her friend the last few weeks. They worked well together but Seska's persistence recently, wanting to know more about Chakotay, upset her. In the beginning she could put it down to general curiosity about a man who was enigmatic. Then it became more focused on her attraction to him. Seska had been attracted to Chakotay from the start, that much was certain. Chakotay didn't give a damn, until a few days ago when she noticed that he returned Seska's lascivious looks. How could Seska forget her ordeal so quickly? How could she forget she had a husband and that only as recently as a few weeks ago? Something boiled inside her again as B'Elanna pictured the kiss and the next moment, sparks flew from her console as she hit it.

Seska glanced up once, then gave a friendly snigger at B'Elanna's burst of anger. B'Elanna remained stony for the next few minutes until a beep came from her station near the warp core and she hurried towards it. She shook her head. The screen was blank. There was nothing, no message, no hail. Why would Chakotay hail her, then suddenly stop? Then seconds later the words "Venus" appeared on her screen and she realised the message was for her eyes only. She should have known. Chakotay had told her about this after her first day on the Liberty.

"You operate the ship's critical systems, and sometimes I’ll need to speak only with you. Security reasons, Torres." She had only nodded. Her trauma was still too fresh in her mind to take in everything Chakotay said in those first two days. 'Venus' was a hidden message and the code created just for her. When it appeared on her screen she had to make certain that she was not observed closely. She grinned. No doubt Ken Dalby had his own secret code.

"See me in my cabin fifteen minutes after reading this."

When she read it, she deleted the message and walked back to the console she had only minutes earlier knocked about and damaged. Seska looked up, distracted for a moment from her work and when B'Elanna waved a hand, she continued to busy herself. B'Elanna could see the expression on Seska's face was intense as she worked.

B'Elanna wondered why Chakotay would want to see her in his cabin. She had to provide a plausible excuse for leaving engineering and getting to him. She loved him fiercely, and her disappointment at what she had seen in his office - she had completely forgotten what she had wanted to see him about in the first place - was still very raw. Now at least, she'd get a chance to confront him, even if he were going to close up like a clam.

_It's not what you're thinking..._

It wasn't what she saw? What was _he_ thinking? She was dumb or something? She was as blind as a bat? She saw two persons who would have rutted like targs if she hadn't barged in at that moment. And it wasn't as if she didn't knock to announce her arrival. They had been so out of it they didn't hear her.

Well, she was going to tell him off for forgetting that as a kind older brother and leader of their vessel, he should behave with decorum and set a good example not only for her as his awe-struck younger sister in affection, but the whole crew. Why should he suddenly, when Seska was around, itch in the crotch like there was no tomorrow?

Yes, she'd tell him to his face. She had that freedom to tell him to his face. He was like a brother to her, wasn't he? She was a good friend to him, wasn't she?

Fifteen minutes later B'Elanna finished her work and declared she was ready to take a bath, she was so full of oil. Seska scurried to her when she reached the door.

"B'Elanna."

"Yeah?"

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Sure."

"Chakotay's cabin - "

"You know where it is," B'Elanna replied brusquely.

"Yes, yes, I know. But...um..."

"What do you want, Seska?"

Seska looked a little embarrassed, though B'Elanna couldn't imagine why she should be. She was not embarrassed when she was caught kissing Chakotay. She looked like she gloated... Gloated... Was Seska an actress? B'Elanna wondered.

"I...er, I want to give Chakotay a surprise. I - you know I like him, B'Elanna. I'm falling in love with him."

"Is there a point to this?"

"You have the code to his cabin..." How did Seska know? She was on the point of refuting Seska's claim when Seska continued quickly, "I saw you one night going in there. You didn't knock...

B'Elanna was stunned for a few seconds. Seska's eyes flashed and B'Elanna's eyes widened as she realised that Seska was jealous. Who would know what happened in Chakotay's cabin when she was there with him? They could think anything, and Seska was no exception. B'Elanna gave her a knowing smile.

"Yeah, I have his code. Now, I have to go to the bridge. See you later, Seska."

B'Elanna didn't give Seska time to respond, or to see the expression on her friend's face. Chakotay wanted to speak with her, and while she knew what she was going to tell him, she had absolutely no idea why she was summoned to his cabin at 2100.

***

Twenty seven hours later B'Elanna stood in the small alcove in the darkness of Chakotay’s cabin and watched him sleep. He really did have a very long day and she conceded that he was tired. He was moving a little restlessly, but every time he shifted position, his hand slid under the pillow and then he'd give a sigh before settling again.

She thought of their conversation the night before. She had been mad at him, mad at Seska and mad at herself for being mad at him.

"You really think she wants to kill you, Chakotay?" She had stared disbelievingly at him.

"Yes, Torres. Let me tell you: nothing is at it seems. Seska is a spy on this vessel who used an elaborate ploy to get on it."

"But - but the rape? Was that staged?"

"Yes, that too, and you'd better believe it."

At first she couldn't. It was too fantastic that someone could stage an injury or bodily harm just for the effect. Apparently Seska did. How could she stage her own rape? That thought had made B'Elanna shudder and recoil. No woman asked to be defiled in such a horrendous manner. What was Seska? An abnormality? During that part of their conversation B'Elanna had still been in denial about Seska's betrayal. She was a Bajoran! Kahless!

"She is a Bajoran, Chakotay. It's impossible!"

But all the time she had spoken with Chakotay, her alarm grew. Chakotay had evidence that Seska was a spy; he knew her from another period in his life. Then why didn't he speak with her that first day? She had not realised how she voiced her query but when she looked at him, she remembered that first day Chakotay entered the sickbay and recoiled at the sight of Seska. At first she had thought that it was because of the way Seska looked: beaten and bruised and raped, but he had seen B'Elanna like that too. Now, she realised that it was because Chakotay had known her and had been instantly revolted by her. Still, that didn't exempt him from censure from her when she saw them kissing and clawing away at each other's faces.

"It's to lure her into my cabin, Torres."

"Huh?"

"You'll understand. Before you came here, did Seska by any chance ask you about the codes to my cabin?"

She had turned cold. How did Chakotay know? Seska did ask and was quite persistent. She had been short with her friend and didn't give her the code. Why should she do so? She was in Chakotay's confidence, and she was the only one allowed. Not even Dalby, who was a great friend and his second-in-command, could get in without announcing himself. She knew she meant something special to Chakotay and felt privileged that he entrusted her with access to his quarters. It was why she wouldn't oblige Seska.

"Yes, she did ask me."

"She's predictable, she doesn't know just how predictable - "

  
"But a Bajoran?"

"I'll explain afterwards. I know she'll come to my quarters sometime, and better you give it to her than spending time trying to hack into the ship's systems."

"You _want_ me to give her the code?"

"Aye. She's going to ask again. Don't worry. She'll ask. All I want you to do, is remain hidden here just in case she becomes really creative and I'm caught by surprise."

"Chakotay, I - "

"It's an order, Torres."

"You kissed her. I should kick your - "

"There was a reason, Torres. Kick me all you want to, but keep me alive, will you?" he said with a twinkle in his eyes. She gave a shrug. When she smiled her agreement he patted her shoulder and said, "Good girl."

Any other objections she had, she kept to herself as she saw how serious Chakotay's expression became. His face suddenly became drawn and she knew he was worried. In effect, at his request, she was placing her own life in danger, too, which he wasn’t very happy about.’ She hadn't asked what Dalby's part in it was, although she knew that somewhere, Dalby would also be involved. He could be just as inscrutable as Chakotay at times.

The alcove was small, just enough room for her to stand up straight. She gave a little sigh. Chakotay had turned again in his sleep, and again his hand had gone under the pillow seeking assurance in a steel blade. She shuddered at the thought of Seska coming in and attacking Chakotay. Visions of steel hitting steel flashed and she closed her eyes suddenly, trying to shut out the image of Chakotay lying in a pool of blood. A low growl escaped her. She would kill Seska with her bare hands if she sprang suddenly on Chakotay. He'd given her that right hadn’t he? B'Elanna shrugged mentally. No, he didn't exactly give her that right. He only intimated that she hold Seska off if he were caught off-guard.

She was wide awake even though she had gone without sleep for twenty four hours straight. It was almost 0100 and Seska had gone off duty at 2100. Why was she taking so long? This afternoon, during one of their rare free moments, Seska had done just as Chakotay predicted.

"So, B'Elanna, what did you do in Chakotay's quarters the night I saw you go in there?"

It was a smart opening move, B'Elanna thought. It gave her the lead-in to talking about access codes and security.

"Seska, that's none of your business."

"Come on, B'Elanna, you think I don't know what you're doing? The man brought you back to your cabin an hour later."

She rewarded Seska with a sheepish grin.

"Okay, you got me. But you're forcing me to admit that Chakotay sees me only as a little sister. I made a fool of myself and he let me down very gently - "

"That is so like him, isn't it? He's tough and gentle at the same time."

Seska had given a sigh, then looked at B'Elanna with pleading eyes.

"You want the code to his cabin," B'Elanna stated.

"Oh, B'Elanna! I'll do ten shifts for you! I just need this break. I know he likes me. He- he wants me..."

Seska would have hugged her there and then, if Gerron hadn’t come into the small mess hall and headed straight for them. They had been diverted for a few minutes while B'Elanna patiently explained to him that he was welcome to use her station at engineering to programme some new flight strategies and maneuvers for the Limpet. The kid was soaking up knowledge like she had done in her first year at the Academy. Only when he left did both women breathe collective sighs of relief.

B'Elanna had given Seska the information she needed and spent the next minute watching Seska's eyes change colour from grey-green to dark green. The Bajoran's mouth curved into a smile that B'Elanna thought gave her the look of a predator about to pounce. B'Elanna's disquiet grew and she had felt somewhat unhappy, still not quite ready to believe that the beautiful woman sitting opposite her could want to kill Chakotay. B'Elanna had never asked Chakotay why Seska wanted to kill him. If Seska were a spy, it was probably to neutralise Chakotay. Then why? There were many Maquis cells operating in Federation space and in the Demilitarised Zone, and all had the same problem of being fugitives whom both the Federation and the Cardassians would have loved to get their hands on. For her, there were too many pieces of the puzzle still missing. Was Chakotay involved in more things than met the eye?

Her feet were beginning to ache from standing too long in one position; she was going to cramp up soon and the urge to bend and stretch was just too great. So she rubbed one foot against the other leg and somehow it gave her a little relief.

There was a price on Chakotay's head anyway, she thought. That applied to just about everyone in the Maquis, even Gerron who was still only sixteen in Earth years. Why was Chakotay such a prize? What was happening?

Before she could ponder on that question, a sound at the door alerted her. Her neck hair rose, her ears pricked. She was suddenly hyper-alert but forced her breathing to be even, even as her heart hammered against her rib cage. She could almost feel the release of adrenaline as her body readied for any pending attack. She stole a quick glance at the bunk. Chakotay hadn’t moved yet; he was still lying on his stomach, one hand tucked under his pillow with his head turned towards her. His other hand trailed on the floor. She had no time to think what a nice, cute picture it made, with him lying so vulnerable and boyish in sleep, or to think that he probably always slept like that. There was no time to imagine how Kathryn Janeway would pull the blanket over him that had slid off during the night. No gentle shaking to wake him up.

The door opened softly and B'Elanna squeezed tighter into the alcove. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the shadowy figure move forward stealthily.

B'Elanna almost gasped when she saw Seska. Even in the dark, with only starlight swelling into the cabin, she could see Seska's breathtaking beauty. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders. She wore a diaphanous gown that did little to conceal her shape, her long legs, or the swell of her breasts that B'Elanna could see were heaving as she breathed.

_She's right by you Chakotay... Wake up, Chakotay..._

Funny how her wordless entreaty seemed to touch him. He stirred only slightly to lie more comfortably, then sighed deeply again. B'Elanna saw no weapon carried by Seska, but perhaps it was in her left hand. From her own vantage point she could only see Seska's profile. She tried to remember whether Seska was left-handed, then shook her head. B'Elanna stood dead still, not even wanting to shift her weight from one foot to the other. Seska reached Chakotay and when she bent over him, B'Elanna's heart raced furiously.

_She's not carrying a weapon, Chakotay. You brought me here for nothing. Tomorrow I'll kick your behind like I promised. Don't make me look...Don't make me look... Hell, she's going to kiss you and you're fast asleep. Don't make me look..._

B'Elanna balled her fists as Seska touched Chakotay's head and she gave him a gentle caress.

_She won't hurt you, Chakotay..._

A thumb grazed Chakotay's lips and she heard him moan.

_Oh, Kahless, they want me to watch them make love..._

Seska's hands came together and she touched something. B'Elanna heard a very, very soft click.

_Kahless!_

B'Elanna blinked...and blinked...and blinked.

In a flurry of movement so swift it left her gasping, Chakotay whipped up and the next thing B'Elanna saw, was Seska lying on the floor in a pool of blood, her head almost severed from her body. For a few seconds the torso twitched in the final throes of death until Seska gave a shuddering gasp. Her body stilled. Chakotay stood over the body, his Klingon dagger dangling from limp fingers.

Shocked to the core, B'Elanna tried to reenact what she had just seen happen in three seconds - too fast for the eye, but the images and sequence of movement were burned on her retina.

Seska bent down, her robe slipping away from her shoulders and revealing her creamy skin and breasts. Chakotay lay completely motionless on the bed, still in the last pose B'Elanna remembered - on his stomach, one hand under the pillow and the other touching the floor. Seska's left hand came up, and B'Elanna saw the flash of the ring with its ornate head. Chakotay stirred slightly. Seska pressed a spring somewhere on the ring and a click revealed the tiny needle as it slid out. There was a triumphant look in her eyes. She balled her hand into a fist and...

B'Elanna wondered why she didn't remember hearing Seska whisper "Chakotay, die now..." Like a snake uncoiling itself, Chakotay moved. First, the hand trailing on the floor gripped Seska's ankle and threw her off balance. She started to topple backwards, but in that same movement Chakotay grabbed Seska's hair, pulled her head back so that her neck, exposed, lay ready for the dagger which cut across her throat with cat-like speed, as B'Elanna heard a grinding sound. Seska never made a sound after that. Her protest died in her throat as she fell to the floor, blood spurting from the open wound in her neck. Her head faced B'Elanna and in that same moment the room illuminated enough that B'Elanna could see Seska's face. The mouth gaped wide and her tongue limped out of her mouth while her eyes were wide, still-staring.

In death, Seska's face showed surprise.

B'Elanna clasped the sides of her head, hearing screams coming from somewhere. They weren't hers. They couldn't be. She'd seen death, she'd seen corpses. Seska looked surprised...surprised... B'Elanna felt dizzy, her head buzzing with the echo of the screams.

"Torres!"

She looked up, and only belatedly felt the wetness on her cheeks. Chakotay stood over the prone body of Seska the Bajoran. She stared at Seska's grotesque dead face.

"Torres!"

When she heard his voice a second time, she moved from her spot, careful not to step near the blood that covered the area around Seska's body. B'Elanna shuddered violently. She stood still, hesitant to take another step forward.

"Come here, Torres."

Chakotay was breathing heavily, and beads of perspiration made his forehead gleam in the low illumination. When she walked carefully around the body of Seska, Chakotay's hand rested on her shoulder. For a moment B'Elanna stiffened. It was the hand that felled the woman lying dead on the floor. She looked up at him and he gave her a tired smile. Moments before Chakotay had moved like a stealthy cat, so fast that she couldn't follow his actions. Now, he looked tired.

"C-Chakotay...?

"She'll never trouble any of us again, Torres. Never."

"What has she done to you, Chakotay?"

He kept his gaze on her, and his eyes narrowed.

"You'll not know the damage this woman has done. She was a Cardassian spy, Torres. While it may be hard for you to believe, Seska is a Cardassian.

She hardly had time to absorb Chakotay's outrageous claim when the cabin doors swished open and Dalby entered.

"I see it's done, Chak," he said as he glanced at the body on the floor.

"Yes. Don't feel sorry for this woman."

Chakotay walked to his cabinet and removed a med-kit. In fascination B'Elanna and Ken Dalby watched how he returned and collected blood and skin samples from Seska; he removed the ring with its needle still protruding and placed it carefully in a little metal box. A small transparent disk Chakotay removed from the med-kit also went into the box. When he rose to his feet again, he looked at Dalby and handed him the box.

"My guess is the ring contained a poison that would have killed me in a millisecond."

"Jeez, Chakotay..." Dalby said and Chakotay smiled again.

"Sergei Karkoff is currently stationed at Deep Space Nine for a short while. You must rendezvous with Eddington's vessel and make certain that Karkoff gets this. I can tell you now, Torres and Dalby, that while Seska may have looked Bajoran, they couldn't change her blood properties or her DNA. I'll bet my last bar of latinum on that. You have three days, Dalby."

Dalby clicked his heels.

"Aye, Captain!"

"Good. Torres, get a clean-up crew in here to remove this vile creature from my quarters. We'll have to use one of our torpedo casings and shoot her into the nearest sun, and I..." Chakotay paused as he used his toe to nudge the body of the dead woman. "I'll be sleeping in one of the vacant cabins..."

"Aye...Captain..." B'Elanna said slowly as she began to collect herself.

"Well, she'll not trouble us again, will she?" Dalby said.

This time Chakotay dropped his hand on Dalby's shoulder, and B'Elanna thought how incongruous the picture looked with Chakotay's dagger still dangling from his other hand, Dalby grinning, she herself wanting to puke and poor, dead, bloody Seska looking surprised.

"Know what, Dalby?" Chakotay asked.

"What, Captain?"

"I should have killed Seska way back when she was still Sedeka."

*****

 **END CHAPTER TWENTY NINE**  

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay is in a difficult mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOK FOUR: MAQUIS

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

Kathryn smiled straight into the imager. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and her face looked scrubbed and clean. She was beautiful even without make-up. Beautiful and fey and feisty, like he had seen her on so many mornings when he woke up in bed and found her staring down at him. When was that? Half a lifetime ago? It seemed like it to him.

So many things had happened, enough for an entire lifetime of ten couples. Was it only three years ago that Kathryn contacted him for the first time? He'd had a broken leg then. He remembered with tenderness how concerned she had been and how off-hand he was about his own injuries. Kathryn had been embarrassed calling him and she had closed communication so abruptly that for a moment he thought that she had not wanted to speak with him after all, or that she had made a mistake or that he dreamed she called him. What good fortune, what hand of destiny inspired him to call her back instantly after she shut down their comm-link? Even then he had been afraid of losing her. If he hadn't called back...

Yes, so many things had happened between then and now.

He remembered their first morning together when she had woken in his arms... There had been an accusing look in her eyes as she told him that he snored. After that, he often woke that way in the morning, with Kathryn's accusing eyes, her words that he’d snored again and kept her awake. He'd pull her close to him and kiss her and when she looked at him again, the accusing stare would be replaced by tenderness.

He gave a sigh. He could gaze forever at pictures of Kathryn.

The next few holo-images were of Kathryn and Hannah and Ceara. The dog jumped up at Kathryn, barking excitedly, and Hannah bent over and almost pitched out of her mother's arms to reach for the dog. Kathryn managed to contain the wriggling baby, then pointed to the imager.

_"There, look there, Hannah. One day Daddy will see how you've grown. Smile, pretty please..."_

And Hannah smiled.

Chakotay felt as if a giant fist squeezed his heart so tightly that he couldn't breathe. If he wanted to retain any modicum of sanity, he had to stop watching the photos and holo-vids Admirals Ponsonby and Paris sent him. He knew Kathryn didn't know they were sending him regular updates. Anyway, on the day Hannah was born, Kathryn had pledged that she'd prepare and record all Hannah's milestones, and that she'd show their baby pictures of him every day, so that Hannah could become used to seeing him and know one day that he was her father. He had to hand it to Admiral Ponsonby. The man was getting far too creative capturing the images. That they sent holo-vids and photographs to him was not known to her. He sighed. It was better that way, that she didn't know. It protected her and Hannah.

Hannah smiled as if she could see him, her hand reaching for the imager. She was only five months old but he could see she had sprouted two teeth already. Chakotay smiled tenderly. If his father had been alive, he would have said Hannah was a contrary.

There were a few more images of Kathryn with Hannah, of Hannah sleeping in her crib, of Hannah lying on a blanket under their tree at Indiana and the dog lying next to her. Baby and dog were fast asleep and the picture was so peaceful, so rustic that a lump formed in his throat. One picture showed Kathryn and baby with Kathryn holding Hannah close to her and both looking at the imager. The profile shot was beautiful. Kathryn's hair hung long down her back, and two pairs of identical eyes stared at him with an air of expectance as if they knew he'd be with them in the next moment.

The last holo-vid of the latest batch the admirals had sent, was of Kathryn alone, sitting in the lounge of their home in San Francisco. It was a message that Kathryn had prepared, one of many she had done in the months since Hannah's birth. Her messages had a positive tone to them, a clear conviction that he would be back with them one day, but in the meantime she'd talk to him as if he were right there, sitting next to her and listening to her. Sometimes he could hear the wistfulness in her voice; at those times, like now, he felt like climbing the bulkheads, so intensely did he miss her.

"I should stop punishing myself looking at these pictures," he murmured as he started the message.

In this holo-vid, Kathryn sat as he remembered her. She leaned forward, her chin resting against her hand. It always made him think of Rodin's "The Thinker"; many times when he had seen Kathryn sitting so deeply pensive, he didn’t intrude knowing that she appreciated it if he didn't ask questions because later, she'd talk to him about it anyway.

Now, Kathryn sat again like that and his heart was racing as he wondered what she was going to say. She raised an eyebrow, looking cool, though he could detect that underneath the composure lay her own heartache and longing.

_Hello, Chakotay..._

The familiarity of her voice welcomed him.

_I miss you, and I just need this moment to allow myself the luxury of expressing it. You know how it is when you're missing someone and you can't always show it because so many depend on you to remain focused on what you're doing. I've been busy since my return from Arcosia Prime. It's been a month away from our precious little girl and I can't tell you how I've looked forward to seeing her again. Even though I kept weekly contact, you know yourself how inadequate it can be..._

Kathryn paused, raised an eyebrow and smiled so that the corner of her mouth lifted. He thought immediately of how they used to communicate when on their respective vessels, and how on occasion they made love, yet always felt unsatisfied. Yes, he knew how inadequate subspace communication could be when all you wanted was your loved one in the flesh.

_Anyway, Hannah was staying with Mom, you know. Phoebe had gone off somewhere for a few weeks and couldn't take Hannah. Mom, though, was only too happy to look after Hannah for us. They dote on her, as you can imagine, and Admiral Ponsonby goes everywhere proudly telling everyone about his beautiful granddaughter._

Chakotay's fingers touched the screen almost reverently as Kathryn paused for several long moments, a sheen of tears in her eyes. She smiled and wiped away at a drop that dared to roll down her cheek. He heard a sob before she collected herself again.

_Do you know how protective Ceara is over our little girl, Chakotay? You should see them together. One morning - it's getting really warm here in Indiana - I let Hannah lie on her blanket under our tree and Ceara snuggled down beside her. It was so touching, you know. Both fell asleep, but Ceara started barking when Admiral Ponsonby approached them and wanted to touch Hannah. Poor Ceara. No, I should rather say poor Admiral Ponsonby! He married my mother in January, Chakotay. I don't know if I told you that already, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you again... Admiral Ponsonby loves Mom to distraction and he's rather besotted with Hannah. Hannah does tend to twist everyone round her little finger._

There was another long pause as Kathryn shifted position and sat back on the couch again. She gave a deep sigh, then leaned forward again.

_I should tell you that during my last mission to Arcosia Prime, a major Cardassian armaments repository was destroyed by two Federation vessels. One was your old vessel, the Ormskirk and the other was the Enterprise. The Admirals are keeping mum about their part in it, but Chakotay, I can tell you that the Cardassian stronghold wasn't something the Federation could have known about. It was so hidden that only a Maquis covert operation could have uncovered it._

_So now I wonder: were you in any way involved in this?_

Chakotay rocked back in his seat. He should have known that Kathryn was far too perceptive, far too intuitive not to have sensed his involvement. Even if the admirals never told her anything, she'd have sensed something. He and Dalby had uncovered it a month ago at great risk to their safety and security. Funny thing about that little mission, he thought. They were looking for leads to Winonah's whereabouts.

"Oh, Kathryn..." he groaned, "you don't know the half of it..."

_So, here I am, thinking the Federation took credit for something my husband uncovered in the first place and it's such a shame. I am proud of you. I don't mind telling you that I fear you'll never return to us, but I'm still proud of what you're doing._

Kathryn paused again and stared away from the imager for long moments, looking deep in thought. She's been taking a lot of flak, he realised. He had known that she would with the likes of Nechayev and Hays hounding her. She bore her cross with pain, he knew. The Admirals had tried to absorb much of it, but Kathryn continued to bear the brunt of his defection to the Maquis. She couldn't hide her sorrow. She was talking to him in a very private moment and Chakotay wondered idly how Admiral Ponsonby could have gotten hold of this holo-vid to send to him. When Kathryn turned to face him again, her face looked composed, although her eyes held a deep sadness in them.

"I promise, Kathryn, one day, I'll make up for all your pain..." he vowed when he saw how sad her eyes became.

_I promised I'd not be sad, you know. But sometimes, I miss you so much I can't help it. Hannah needs you. We need you. I wish you could hold our little baby in your arms. I wish she could fall asleep in your arms and snuggle close to you, getting used to your smell; babies sense their fathers and mothers that way too. I wish you could take me in your arms and hold me and tell me all of this is a horrible dream and you'll never leave._

_But I can hope, can't I? I've promised myself that Hannah will always know her father, and do you know, Chakotay, Hannah actually smiles these days when she sees a picture of you? We show her the holo-vids of our happy times together and we tell her that's her Daddy walking next to me, or that's her Daddy kissing me, or that's her Daddy busy with his sand painting. Then she smiles and puts her pudgy little fingers against the screen, making little baby noises. I swear Chakotay, she'll soon be saying "Daddy" before she says "Mommy"._

Then Kathryn smiled brilliantly again and for a moment Chakotay wanted to believe there was no pain; he wanted to believe that Kathryn was fine. He wanted to believe that very soon they'd be united and he could assure her over and over while she lay in his arms that everything would be all right. He wanted to believe that she didn't miss him, because perhaps that would lessen his own pain, and make him a little more detached from his constant companions called anger, bitterness, sorrow, his intense yearning for his wife and child and home and everything that he’d ever held dear.

Why did he delude himself? Didn't Kathryn's smile just barely conceal her own sorrow?

_I must say goodbye to you now, my love..._

The screen went blank.

Chakotay stared for interminable minutes at the stark reality of the monitor, its only function which had been to convey a message to him. Suddenly the room felt empty about him. For a few glorious moments Kathryn was here in his cabin, talking to him, making it feel as if she were really with him and they were making conversation. She would speak of her activities of the day, tease him mercilessly when he snored; she would sit for him while he made yet another sand painting of her. In their quiet moments she'd tell him that once she had been afraid to love again, but that he taught her to embrace her own truth. He would give a contented groan whenever she ran her fingers through his hair, and allowed her thumb to graze his lips before she'd whisper how much she loved him.

The images were gone. Like a beautiful bubble it existed briefly before vanishing. He felt a coldness settle inside and when he looked around him in his cabin, his eyes wild with longing in the hope that he'd see her, he gave a cry of pain.

In his despair he covered his face with his hands and gave a few sobs, hardly realising that his hands were wet. Minutes later, still unable to find rest, he walked to his cupboard and retrieved an old pair of boxing gloves. He gave a shudder. It was one of the few things he’d brought along with him when he left Earth on the day Hannah was born.

Deep in thought he left his cabin two minutes later and strode down the corridor in the direction of the small gym, the only luxury the Liberty boasted.

****

The punching bag swayed lazily as Chakotay delivered a few fast punches to the belly of the bag. He pranced, threw a left, then a right hook and pushed as hard as he could.

_I love you, Chakotay..._

He groaned loudly as Kathryn's voice cut into his mind like a sharp knife. Sweat pouring down his brow, his movements became intense, his punches harder as he tried to drown out images, voices, the cry of a baby... But they kept coming.

_Here, Hannah, meet your Daddy..._

_And what if they break, Chakotay?_

_Why, Kathryn, we'll just fix them up again..._

_Out of the unknown has often sprung life's greatest gifts..._

_My son, you are a contrary._

_Love Kathryn with your very breath, Chakotay..._

_Kathryn, only Chakotay could really massage my aching back..._

"No! Dammit!" he cried despairingly. "Leave me! Let me go!"

His demented words were accompanied by a salvo of frenzied punches. Once, he caught the bag as it swung towards him and he gasped in exhaustion against it, breathing heavily for several minutes. Then Kathryn and Hannah and Kolopak and Gretchen and Phoebe would come again and their voices would mingle; they'd shout at him, taunt him and remind him they were no longer part of his life.

The moment his denial encroached on his conscious, the punching would start again as he punished the bag.

"You - are - my - life! Don't - forget - it. My life !"

For the next few minutes, only the sounds of his punches filled the gym, the bulkheads bearing silent witness to his frenzied pain.

Chakotay hardly noticed when the door opened and someone entered.

The bag swung to him and with great force he hit it, again and again, until it wouldn't move.

"Chakotay."

"Go away!"

He delivered another hard punch, grimacing at the exertion. The bag moved away, caught by B'Elanna. Chakotay lunged and delivered another hard blow.

"Chakotay! Hey - !"

The next moment B'Elanna Torres, surprised by the swiftness of Chakotay's retaliatory blow to the bag, landed on the floor. She rose quickly to her feet, rubbing her bottom.

"Chakotay?"

"Torres?" He blinked several times, trying to focus. When her face swam into view, he gave a deep sigh and dropped his arms to his sides.

"Yeah, it's me..." she replied, dusting her pants at the same time. "You sure pack a punch, Chakotay."

"Don't mind me, Torres. Now move away," he warned as he pulled back his arm to land another punch. B'Elanna ducked out of the way of the advancing weapon. She approached Chakotay a little cautiously, yet his fists came up instinctively.

"Hey, Chakotay, it's me, B'Elanna. Remember me? Do I look like a punching bag?"

Chakotay dropped his arms again. He took a few deep breaths.

"What are you doing here, Torres?" he asked.

"I came looking for Chakotay. What have you done with him?"

Chakotay wasn't amused by B'Elanna's attempt at levity. He knocked the gloves together, as if preparing to fight her.

"He's right here, Torres," he snapped, closing the gap between them and towering over her. Then he turned and hugged the bag. He stepped back, pranced and delivered a few furious punches, the gym and B'Elanna receding from his mind as he concentrated on punishing his invisible foe. She jumped deftly out of the way.

"Hey, you want to kill me? What's gotten into you?"

"If you don't get out of the way, Torres, that will be your problem," Chakotay bit out.

A heavy punch to the belly of the bag followed. It left him gasping for breath. Then, for several minutes he fought, demented, snorting, grunting, muscles straining, straining, finally protesting as he stretched himself beyond his own strength.

"Chakotay, stop...please," B'Elanna's voice came to him through the fog that swirled in his brain. He heard it from afar, but it kept coming until it sounded clearly. Chakotay stopped, and when he did, B'Elanna stood right in front of him, her eyes wide, filled with concern.

"Torres?"

"Yeah, it's me," B'Elanna said a second time. The next moment he collapsed against her, the gloved hands gripping her tightly round the shoulders. He was breathing hard; when he calmed down, she held him a little away from her. "So tell me what's bugging you, Chakotay."

"Something's bugging me?" he asked, trying to sound flippant. But his mouth remained stiff, unsmiling.

"Yeah.

He sighed deeply.

"It's nothing, Torres."

"Chakotay, if this punching bag had been human, you would have killed it," she retorted quickly. After a pause, she said, "Want to tell me?" Her voice sounded soft, coaxing and for a moment Kathryn's image flashed before him. Kathryn, whose voice sounded sympathetic and kind whenever he was in pain. He closed his eyes against the memory, then remembered that B'Elanna was still standing, waiting.

"I - it's not easy, Torres."

"You miss them?"

He blanched at the directness of her question.

"I went to your cabin," she explained. "The picture of your wife was lying on the floor..."

"So I came out to muscle up a bit, Torres. What's wrong with that?"

"At 0300?"

He held out his hands and B'Elanna unlaced his gloves, pulling them off. She took his hand and led him out of the gym, walking in complete silence back to his cabin where she punched in his code and they entered. He looked at her, frowning until realisation dawned on him that she had come to him for help. His tone was apologetic as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Torres. You had a nightmare again?"

"I'm okay, now," she assured him. "I'm worried about you, Chakotay. You were like a madman in there. An angry, mad man."

"It's the way I...do things," he said by way of explanation.

"Well, if that's a coping mechanism, it sure isn't helping. Ever tried to talk about it? That helps."

Chakotay slumped down heavily on his bunk and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't get Kathryn's face out of his mind, and the truth was, he didn’t want to. He missed them; he missed holding her in his arms and missed seeing his baby smile at him.

"I miss her, if you must know."

"Your beautiful Captain Janeway and your little baby."

"Yeah," he sighed.

Sometimes he wanted to give up. Sometimes he felt like going home, forget about the Maquis and dream at Indiana, sitting under the giant oak with Kathryn and Hannah, soaking in the idyll of perfect peace and harmony. He wanted to get away and listen to his wife talking, hear Hannah's first words, see her first steps. Looking at their holo-vids was becoming more and more difficult. It reminded him of what he'd lost, of what he had given up. It was too much, too much.

Then he thought of Winonah. He thought of his mission. He thought of women like B'Elanna Torres, whose lives he'd saved, and something of the honour of what he was doing, stole its way back in his heart.

A hand touched his shoulder gently. His placed his own hand over B'Elanna's.

"Tell me about her?" B'Elanna asked softly.

Chakotay looked at her, unable to stand the compassion in her eyes. He took a deep breath.

"It's Kathryn's birthday in three days' time..." he said finally and B'Elanna's eyes widened as understanding dawned in them.

"Hence the poor punching bag."

"Yeah."

"And you're going to miss it this year..."

"Do you know," he said suddenly, fiercely, "that I've known Kathryn three years and I've missed her birthday every time? Last year - " Chakotay paused, unwilling to talk about it, but B'Elanna's eyes held no censure, only a compassion and understanding. It gave him courage to share with her. "Last year I was on Dorvan V, and after that...things went wrong..."

"Sedeka came into your life."

Chakotay looked up sharply at her to be met with a kindly smile. He nodded.

"She's dead now. That part of my life is over. I gave Kathryn a little dog and called her Ceara."

"I heard from Tom Paris that Kathryn Janeway named the dog Ceara. There's really a strong bond between you and your wife, Chakotay."

He was grateful that B'Elanna understood.

"I'll miss her birthday again - "

"What's the trade-off, Chakotay?" B'Elanna asked.

"The refugees who depend on us to take them to safe havens, medical supplies we take to settlements where it's needed. Little Winonah who is still missing... Saving people...you..."

"There's always a reward for one's sacrifice."

"Who told you that?"

"You did."

She smiled when she said it and a hint of a smile formed at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm a wanted man, Torres. There's nowhere in Federation space I can go without being recognised."

"It's your tattoo. Anyone tell you that you look good with it?"

He wanted to tell her how Kathryn touched his tattoo. It was the last time he had seen her and he wanted to cry. Kathryn had always known he would embrace his heritage and cultural identity. She had not been surprised, and her touch had been simply one of affirmation.

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's the downside of being on the run."

"I'm sorry you'll miss your wife's birthday again."

"I left her a gift, long ago, to be opened on her birthday."

"See? Would you tell me what it is?"

"What, and ruin the surprise?"

B'Elanna laughed. He felt finally a little better. It did help him, he realised, that someone - B'Elanna - could be there and offer him solace just by listening.

"Okay," she said, "I won't pressure you for details, but on her birthday, are you going to tell me what it is? Please? Talk about it? You'll not feel so lonely then..."

Chakotay nodded. He was tired; he was fast being overtaken by sleep, but B'Elanna was good company.

"Did you know our baby was born on my birthday? It's also the day of our anniversary..."

"You like co-incidences, I suppose. Some people love being sentimental..."

"Hey, I'm not sentimental. I certainly didn't order Hannah to be born on my birthday..."

"Hannah?"

"It's the name we gave our little girl. She had the name before - before..." Chakotay's voice trailed a little.

"Before she was born?"

"When we lost our son..."

"Oh, Chakotay, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's something we've dealt with, Torres. I promised Kathryn then our next child would be a girl and her name would be Hannah."

"Hannah has a special significance?"

"It was my mother's name," he said so softly that B'Elanna leaned closer to hear him. He touched the ridge on her forehead and smiled. "She was a very tiny woman, but everyone loved her..."

"Then it was a fitting tribute to her, Chakotay. A fitting tribute."

Chakotay knew about B'Elanna's troubled relationship with her mother, Miral Torres; it had been of the many things B'Elanna had told him whenever she had come to his cabin.

"Yes. When our baby was placed on her mother's bosom, Kathryn cried for my mother. She died, you know...my mother..."

"I know, Chakotay. On Dorvan V."

There was quiet for a few seconds until B'Elanna spoke again.

"Tell me, Chakotay, how did you and your Kathryn meet?"

"You don't want to know..."

B'Elanna gave a light laugh.

"Chakotay, you're the most enigmatic person on board. Very secretive. Everyone's dying to know more about you."

"My private life, you mean," he replied.

"Well, you can punch me on the jaw, but that's what I mean."

He hardly realised that B'Elanna had lifted his feet off the floor and made him lie back against the pillow. She had pulled off his boots as well, and then she had a blanket ready that she threw over him. Somehow, he didn't mind B'Elanna cooing over him. In the last year it was what he'd missed most - Kathryn's soft touch, a womanly touch.

"It's not everyone who receives the privilege of hearing it," B'Elanna continued softly as she sat down on the bunk next to him.

He sighed. B'Elanna's lips were parted in anticipation of his answer. She was as curious as the rest, but he knew she would never betray his trust. She was fiercely loyal, ready to punch anyone on the jaw to defend him. Poor Gerron had already fallen foul...

"It was a blind date," he admitted slowly and almost died of embarrassment when B'Elanna's eyes lit up in teasing merriment. But she soon set him at ease when she smiled, as if she thought blind dates were romantic.

"And you weren't blind," B'Elanna said.

"Neither was Kathryn."

"You knew, even then?"

"Knew what, Torres?" he asked sleepily, drained from his earlier boxing bout against a punching bag he sometimes called Gul Evek.

"That you loved her."

He was quiet a long time, remembering the first time Kathryn Janeway expressed her love for him. It had been via subspace communication and when she told him that, it was simply a confirmation of his own feelings for her and the instinctive way they had been drawn to one another. Kathryn had been so afraid then to become vulnerable again. So had he but they took their fears and called them Grey Eagle, the One who would guide them through and teach them that few in life are granted the true privilege of loving again, even more deeply than before, to fly into a new unknown and not be afraid of the journey or the destination. He remembered mostly Kathryn's eyes, how the blue-grey changed to deep pools in which he wanted to drown. His destiny was woven with hers forever. He remembered the many nights Kathryn clung to him, so openly vulnerable, as no one had ever seen her. He remembered how afraid he had been of losing her... Yes, he loved her to the very depths of his soul...

"Yes. Yes, I knew then. I love her, B'Elanna..." he whispered hoarsely. There was a short pause, then he spoke again, "Do you know Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Torres?"

"No," B'Elanna replied, frowning.

"She was a poet."

"Oh."

"She said: 'I love thee in every day's most quiet needs'"

B'Elanna pondered a few moments on his words.

"It's very beautiful..."

"I know..."

Chakotay closed his eyes, and when he felt B'Elanna's lips touch his forehead and she said quietly 'goodnight', it was Kathryn's face he saw, Kathryn's gentle smile when she spoke and Kathryn's touch on his brow.

"Goodnight, Kathryn..."

****************

B'Elanna left Chakotay's cabin feeling a sting of tears behind her eyelids. When she had woken up earlier, in a sweat, gasping for breath, she knew that her demons had terrorised her again. Her hand had clutched her pubic area protectively and once again, she felt that Cardassian moving roughly in her. She had been terrified, though not a sound had come from her when she jackknifed into a sitting position on her bunk. She had been wheezing and when she rose from her bunk, her first instinct had been to walk to Chakotay's cabin.

He wasn't there when she entered and when she met Gerron coming off a very late shift, the kid had all but blustered his way through, saying that Chakotay was in the gym. Before she even thought of asking how Gerron knew that, the kid was quick with his reply.

"He ordered me to tie the laces of his boxing gloves."

"Oh."

Gerron had scurried away quickly and she had made a grimace of displeasure, certain that her own wild appearance probably scared him off. She rubbed her cranial ridge fiercely, then decided the ridge would never disappear. With a sigh, she had made her way to the gym.

Chakotay had been fighting the punching bag so vehemently and with so much aggression that initially, she shrank back from it. A closer look at him told her it was something really deep that was troubling him, something from his personal life. He didn't frequent the gym as much as he liked to, he had admitted to her a month ago when they had been working double and triple shifts almost round the clock. No one rested and everyone pulled his or her weight. So there he was, fighting an invisible foe.

It was in his face - the anger, the depression, the frustration, the yearning.

Her own problems suddenly paled in the face of his. Before, when she’d needed him, he was there, every moment given to her, helping her and helping others. He never turned her away, never showed any impatience that he was too busy to tend to her. There were times he was deeply asleep and he rubbed his tired eyes until he looked alert, then he'd sit her down patiently and talk in soft tones to her, drawing her out and away from her trauma. The nightmares were lessening, but tonight, it had been incredibly terrifying.

When she saw how Chakotay struggled with his demons - she was certain no one knew how he coped, since he rarely if ever drank anything strong - her instincts to help him surfaced and she forgot about her own troubles. In retrospect, it was probably what she needed too, to focus for once on someone needing her. She didn't doubt that Chakotay needed someone then, perhaps not necessarily her, but she felt she had the credentials to be that person he could share his own pain with. There was a firm level of trust between them, and in her own darkest hours, he hadn't minded being there for her and telling her things he would tell no one else on the Liberty, except perhaps Dalby.

She saw that Chakotay really needed to talk to someone he trusted. He was beating the hell out of his punching bag but not finding any closure or absolution. The aggression, anger and frustration that was there with the first blow, did not abate with the last blow. Not even in his totally exhausted state, did he look like the workout helped at all.

Tonight she'd seen a vulnerable Chakotay, so radically different from the strong, aggressive Maquis leader who had little trouble killing the likes of Seska. Chakotay missed his wife; he missed his child. When he joined the Maquis, it must have been a tremendous sacrifice for him to leave wife and child and lead the life of a renegade.

B'Elanna wondered idly what kind of gift Chakotay had bought his wife. Kathryn Janeway was a Starfleet Captain, the daughter of an admiral, same as Tom Paris's father was an admiral. What would the daughter of an admiral need as a birthday gift?

She had to get hold of Ayala in the morning. Dalby had returned a day earlier than expected, and it was something Chakotay had been glad about. Perhaps they could alleviate Chakotay's loneliness by organising a little something in lieu of his wife's birthday.

Who knows? Maybe then Chakotay wouldn't feel so lonely on May 20.

***

They were nearing the Badlands and Chakotay was in a foul mood. The hull plating of the cabins on the lower deck was buckling from a breach in the hull. It was nothing that couldn't be remedied and B'Elanna was on it immediately. The rest of the crew worked round the clock to repair the damage after their latest skirmish with a Cardassian vessel. Dalby had returned with a "mission accomplished" look on his face, had lifted his spirits. Now all Sergei had to do was analyse Seska's DNA and prove once and for all that Seska was a Cardassian in a Bajoran body. Dalby had also returned with an encrypted message from Sergei. Everything was fine at home, he said, and young Anatoly had just become a grand master by beating the great Spock at 3-D chess.

Chakotay had been right. Seska's little sojourn on the Liberty had told the Cardassians where they were heading, though Chakotay had known they wouldn't venture too far into the Badlands. No Cardassian vessel could make it through; the Liberty had superb maneuverability, thanks to Torres and Paris, who in the short time he had been with them, had redesigned the navigational array, and making passage easy through the plasma turbulence.

Chakotay gave a sigh. It had been good talking to B'Elanna last night; he got things off his chest and she didn't press him for more than he was willing to share.

Last year he had given Kathryn Ceara and since then, so many things had happened; in the end he had been blessed by Kathryn's amazing forgiveness. Now, as they made their way to Alkorea, on the other side of the Badlands, he felt a little better, although he missed her intensely. He touched the photograph he had taken during their first visit to Indiana when Kathryn introduced him to her mother. He felt the old rush of tenderness and smiled back at her.

"You know how much I long to be with you, sweetheart, but you understand, don't you? You understand..."

It seemed to him that Kathryn's smile deepened and that her eyes filled with tears. He imagined he could hear her say "I'm proud of you, Chakotay..."

"I don't know how long this war is going to continue, Kathryn," he said reflectively. "At least the Federation is making giant inroads into disabling Cardassian armament factories. I suppose I can tell you I've given them that information, only they don't know... The Cardassians are using slave labour on worlds no one knows of, only a few crew on this vessel. It hasn't been easy, flushing out intelligence, and poor Seska... She's left me with so much information about Cardassian strongholds, you wouldn't believe how stupid she was, using her old encryption codes that I broke in the first place. She counted on killing me first, you know..."

Did Kathryn's eyes light up? It seemed to him they did. He returned her smile, touched the cool glass again before sighing deeply.

By the time he left his ready room to go to his quarters, his steps, although measured and purposeful, were at least a little lighter than before. The old depression from missing Kathryn and his baby and her family seemed to lift a little, leaving him more optimistic about the future. When he entered his cabin, he sighed with relief. They had been working hard, and B'Elanna, Gerron, Dalby and Ayala had gotten the Liberty running again at close to peak efficiency - peak, that is, for the Liberty. He gave a grimace. The old engines were on their last legs, so to speak, although B'Elanna was brilliant in patching and rebuilding.

"It's good for another two years, Chakotay, before our luck will run out - "

"I hope by then the war will be over, the Cardassians blown to kingdom come, and we can all go home."

"Chakotay, get real. We'll all go to Federation jails before we can go...home."

B'Elanna had deliberately trailed the last words. Naturally, a jail term awaited him. Still, for him home meant being with Kathryn again. For B'Elanna? She had none to go to.

"My father deserted us when I was five, you know. I think it was because I looked too much like my Klingon mother," she once said disparagingly.

"You're not going to cut him some slack?"

"We've given him twenty years of slack, Chakotay," she replied bitterly.

"And your mother?"

"No go. She and I don't get on well..."

Yes, he sighed. Some, like B'Elanna, considered the Maquis as their home. All he wanted to do was hold Kathryn in his arms again. He wanted to join his body with hers and feel her quivering need. He gave a deep, shuddering sigh, thinking how long ago it was that he and Kathryn had last made love.

_How do you want me, Kathryn? Nice, or not so nice?_

_Why, Chakotay, you figure that out..._

_Oh, Kathryn, if you forego the kissing, then I guess it's 'not so nice' after all..._

"Chakotay, get your damn behind in bed and don't think of home," he chided himself, willing away thoughts of Kathryn. They had work to do in the morning and he wanted to make it to Alkorea in record time. Any distractions he'd have to deal with when they got there.

Chakotay had just taken off his boots when his computer made a sound. To anyone hearing the tone, it would have sounded strange. For him, it was a subspace secret communication, undoubtedly from the admirals. It seemed to him they were strategising the War Effort all on their own...

In a flash he was sitting down and entering the codes. A second later, the face of Admiral Paris appeared on the screen.

"Good evening, Chakotay," Owen Paris said, a smile hovering on his face.

"Good to see someone from the Federation who's not ill-disposed towards me," Chakotay replied. "Good evening, Admiral."

"We've received information from Sergei Karkoff about the Cardassian, Sedeka..."

"So soon?" Chakotay asked, surprised.

"Yes, and Sergei has also informed Kathryn of his findings. You said it was okay that he tell her?"

Chakotay nodded, then frowned.

"Admiral, this is not your regular communication. Is something the matter? Kathryn? Is she okay? Is something wrong with Hannah, maybe?" Chakotay was extremely concerned, suddenly afraid that something may have happened to Kathryn or Hannah.

"Chakotay, they are in very good health. Missing husband and father naturally."

Chakotay gave a sigh of relief. He leaned forward.

"Then what is it, Admiral? I can't believe you'd communicate just to say 'hello'," Chakotay replied, suddenly feeling his neck hair rising. Something was up, he realised. This call was out of the blue and very risky too. They'd never been intercepted but anything could happen. Were they giving him another covert mission? he wondered.

"Well, Chakotay, there's a freighter in sector 452 awaiting your arrival. Captain Orr is the commanding officer. You're to rendezvous with him, and he'll bring you within Earth's orbit in two days' time."

"Earth?"

"You're to meet with someone at these co-ordinates..."

Chakotay waited for the co-ordinates to be transferred to his computer and when he studied them, he frowned.

"San Francisco?"

"Yes, Captain. And here are the precise co-ordinates you are to beam to using only your site-to-site transporter..."

Another set of co-ordinates was transferred. Chakotay looked, blinked, looked again. He felt his chest wheeze, and gulped painfully at the lump that formed in his throat. The Admiral's voice seemed to come from a long way off.

"You have a window of only six hours, Captain Chakotay, before you're to beam back to the freighter."

"Admiral, but - but these co-ordinates... it's - it's my - "

"Surprised, Captain?" Owen Paris cut in. "It's the best Admiral Ponsonby and I could come up with to bring some joy into your life and reward you for meritorious service to the Federation."

He couldn't smile. They were giving him the gift of his life. He stared at Owen Paris, still speechless with amazement. His eyes burned, and he blinked several times before he found his voice again. His throat felt thick, raw with emotion.

"Thank you, Admiral Paris... Thank you..."

*****

**END CHAPTER THIRTY**

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated "M" [or NC-17].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter thus far: 12000+ words.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY ONE** **[NC-17]**

_"I did what I could...now let God be my judge!"_

[Gabriel Fauré 1845 - 1924]

**May 19, 2371 - San Francisco**

Alynna Nechayev was a cheerless woman who rarely smiled, exuding mostly an air of aloofness. She was as tough as nails, a trait adopted very early in her career when she became one of Starfleet's youngest female admirals. There were other senior members of the Admiralty who, by virtue of their positions in Starfleet Command, had to present a tough exterior and no-nonsense approach. Owen Paris was one such man, Kathryn knew. While being absolutely severe in the conduct of his work, his severe, aloof manner, a requirement of his work, struck fear into the most junior of Academy cadets. Yet Owen Paris was a most amiable gentleman once one got to know him better, possessing a subtle, dry humour which it was rumoured, he’d had to cultivate the moment he set eyes on the beautiful Doctor Elizabeth Illingsworth. Beneath his mask of inapproachability and rigid discipline was a man who was a loving father and a caring husband who doted on his wife. Just with Alynna Nechayev, however, even the normally terse Owen Paris had his hands full maintaining his equilibrium in the face of Nechayev's natural tendency to belligerence and verbal aggression when she addressed him.

No matter how often Kathryn tried to approach the dour and insensitive woman with an affability that she hoped could sway the admiral, Nechayev remained a most unpleasant person. For years, rumours about a botched love affair had floated about the Academy and Headquarters, but those rumours were never given any substance, the Admiral being as close-mouthed about her private life as anyone else. Still, whatever happened in Nechayev's past must have had a defining impact on her personality. Kathryn was willing to concede that certain events of a traumatic nature, and most particularly one which involved a romance that skidded off the rocks into a turbulent ocean, could lead a woman to imagine, nay, assert that no one else deserved to be happy if she couldn't. How else could Kathryn describe Nechayev if she weren't willing to admit that a person could be born with a cheerless, dour personality? Nechayev was an attractive woman who must have been beautiful once, Kathryn thought. Yet her manner, her constant charge of Duty and Command, her indefatigable crusade against everyone who dared to be happy, and those who ventured to oppose her, marred what had been once a beautiful face. It was constantly drawn, with a perpetual droop to her mouth and a frown that Phoebe would have called 'desperation frowns, not good for eternalising on canvas'.

The summons to Nechayev's office had come when Kathryn had been busy with Hannah's morning ministrations. Hannah had been fractious the previous day and most of the night and Kathryn had been not a little impatient herself when the baby refused to take her bottle, her plaintive crying straining every inch of Kathryn's patience. There was nothing wrong with Hannah - no colic, her teething pains had been dealt with and the suspected ear ache was nothing more than an itch. Even after her bath which she normally enjoyed, there had been the restless flailing of arms and legs. Kathryn had walked up and down the lounge, sat in the rocking chair and rocked her until Hannah drifted into a slumber, only to wake minutes later and start crying again. Kathryn had been close to tears, but she kept rocking, kept talking in soft tones while walking through the apartment. Then the hail from Headquarters came just when Kathryn had finally gotten Hannah calmed down.

Kathryn had tried her best to respond with an evenness that belied her harried look at such an early hour. Without worrying what Nechayev wanted to see her about, she had replied with a friendly tone that she'd be there within the stipulated time. She had left a restless Hannah at the baby care centre close to Headquarters, with a cheerful Laila Demonze receiving the crying baby, promising Kathryn that Hannah would be fine when she returned. Kathryn had wanted to choke and bless Laila at the same time. The girl was far too cheery this early in the morning and yet, she exuded a calming influence over Hannah. Kathryn had given a worried sigh, kissed Hannah's forehead briefly, then hurried to Nechayev's office.

Now, Alynna Nechayev looked at her with a determined twist to her mouth. Kathryn gave a sigh. She wanted to get her baby, go home and catch her breath before the more stressful rigours of caring for a lively infant once more consumed all her energy. She loved Hannah with an intensity that never ceased to surprise her. After Chakotay, she'd never thought that she could love another being more or as much as she did Hannah. Yet, there she was, besotted over the child not just because of Hannah's startling resemblance to her father which made the longing for Chakotay a daily essay in self-control, but simply because Hannah was her daughter, joined to her heart like nothing else.

However, Nechayev wanted answers, just as she’d wanted them when she summoned Kathryn from time to time since Chakotay's defection to the Maquis. For now Hannah had to wait...

"Commander Chakotay will be found, Captain. Another consignment of medical supplies has been hijacked by the Maquis."

"You have called me here, Admiral, to tell me that? I am very well aware of the consequences for my husband should he be caught - "

"When he'll be caught, Captain Janeway. It's only a question of time..."

Kathryn wondered idly what Nechayev had against Chakotay other than his defection to the Maquis. She shook her head.

"Admiral, I assure you, I have no intelligence whatsoever of my husband's movements or his whereabouts."

"His vessel is on its way to Alkorea."

"Alkorea?"

Kathryn was stunned for a moment.

"Yes, it's in the heart of the Badlands."

"Did the Cardassians furnish you with this information?"

A nerve twitched in Nechayev's jaw. Kathryn didn't want to gloat when she asked her question. The woman would consort with the enemy if they had a common...enemy. Chakotay was wanted by the Federation. Chakotay was wanted by the Cardassians. While he might have been instrumental in the Federation's destruction of the armaments factories on Dezod III, both groups wanted him dead. Kathryn expelled a soft sigh. For Nechayev and Hays, bringing the Maquis to book was a matter of principle. It enhanced their standing; they would be the heroes of the Federation and no matter how noble their fight was, the Maquis were going to pay for making Nechayev and Hays look like they hadn't done their job properly.

"Well, it was a message that was intercepted from the Maquis vessel Liberty to the Vetar under Gul Evek's command."

Another sigh followed. Kathryn knew what was coming. She had been harassed about it before and today, this morning, she had little inclination to field Nechayev's tirade or insistent questioning on Chakotay's whereabouts or her own knowledge of what he was up to.

"Then I am afraid I can tell you nothing more, Admiral, since you appear to have the information yourself.

"We believe he may have contacted you, Captain Janeway."

Chakotay never, ever contacted her for fear of just such a reprisal as Nechayev promised. It was his way of protecting her and Hannah. She really didn't know where he was; she was aware they wanted him neutralised. As long as Chakotay headed one of the major Maquis cells, the Maquis posed a threat to the Federation since they took his lead. This she had heard via Tom Paris. Granted, they adopted guerrilla warfare and undermined many Federation institutions, but at heart, she believed, the Maquis had noble objectives. The Federation was short-sighted in not harnessing the power of the Maquis to rout the Cardassians once and for all. As long as Nechayev and Hays headed the War Effort, Kathryn doubted it was going to happen. She met the direct gaze of Nechayev.

"And I tell you I know nothing."

"It would be in his interest if he gave himself up."

Kathryn wanted to laugh at Nechayev's gall. To what end? So Chakotay could rot in a Federation jail until admirals like Hays and Nechayev imagined he no longer posed a threat to them? She shook her head. Chakotay was the master of evasive maneuvers. He could hide in a cloud and no one would know; he'd steal Klingon cloaking technology and move amongst them without anyone ever knowing.

Chakotay would never give himself up. Not unless the lives of his crew were at risk.

"He'll not do that, Admiral."

"So you've spoken with him?"

"No, but I know my husband, Admiral."

"Then if you know him so well, I'll assure you now, Captain Janeway, you will never see your husband as a free man again."

Kathryn had no time to be shocked. What was Nechayev getting at?

"Admiral, let me tell you something. Although Chakotay and I are married, I certainly don't dictate his mores for him, nor will he tell me what principles I should build my life on. He made a decision he knew would leave me without a husband and our daughter without a father. He believes in what he is fighting for - "

"Several Starfleet officers were killed by Maquis." Nechayev's voice rose stridently in the quiet office. Kathryn knew of that.

"Chakotay would not harm anyone Starfleet. I am sure of that, Admiral."

"You approve of what your husband us doing?"

"He is my husband, Admiral. Whatever he does, I believe he is convinced of his cause."

"Then you sympathise with the Maquis."

Kathryn leaned forward, suddenly tense and angry. Still, she had to keep calm in the wake of Nechayev's deliberate taunting.

"Admiral, the official communiqué from your office about Dorvan V read only that an attack by Cardassian vessels had been launched. I know how you have covered up the reality of the atrocities that occurred there. My husband - " Kathryn drew in a deep breath. She couldn't stop. Nechayev riled her. "My husband lost his parents, his brothers and sister, nephews and nieces. The entire population of Dorvan V was wiped out. Did he tell you they violated all the women on Dorvan V without regard for age or standing?" Kathryn watched as Nechayev's eyes widened, though she couldn't say whether the woman was shocked. Nothing apparently made a dent in her conscience. Yet... "And effectively, Admiral, I lost an entire family. I even lost my husband..." Kathryn's voice had gone soft, her voice trailing. "Yes, I lost Chakotay. He was by my side when I was in labour; he held my hand and Admiral, I didn't know then, when I myself needed comfort, how to comfort a husband who had just lost every member of his family. If you ask me if I sympathise, I would have to say yes."

Kathryn sat back in her chair. Sighing, she slowly rose to her feet. Nechayev rose too, her fists on the smooth surface of her desk. She look menacingly at Kathryn.

"Understand, Captain Janeway, that you are not to undertake any off-world travel while you're still on leave."

Kathryn gave a deep sigh, pursed her lips before she spoke again.

"I understand perfectly, Admiral. Perfectly."

When Kathryn left Nechayev's office, she was deeply pensive. She had known she was being monitored, but not to the extent that was made clear from her conversation with Nechayev. A disquiet settled in her. She couldn't go anywhere off-world lest they think she might engage in a tryst with her own husband. The day Chakotay left, she had known that if she sought to contact him, she would place his life in jeopardy and the lives of whatever crew he had working with him. She had no idea what the composition of his crew complement was, except that Tom Paris had worked on the Liberty. Tom Paris had been grilled to within an inch of his sanity for information on the Maquis, the Liberty and Chakotay. They had given up eventually when Owen Paris intervened and told them his son was already in jail, what more did they want? All they could gather from Tom was that the Maquis cells gathered on planets in or on the other side of, the Badlands. No Federation vessel had ever ventured one light-year into the plasma turbulences of the Badlands and neither had any Cardassian vessel. The Maquis were safe there.

She missed Chakotay so much that most nights she woke up in a fever of longing. In the beginning, soon after she read his letter, she had been nearly demented for a while until Hannah claimed her sole attention. Hannah... Their daughter became her lifesaver as she cried her way into Kathryn's heart. The first month she was home with Hannah, she devoted all her time and energy to caring for her baby; in the dark, quiet nights, Kathryn allowed herself the luxury of crying.

Chakotay was gone. Half her life was put on hold. In desperation and out of a need to have him part of their lives even in his absence, she started showing Hannah pictures and holo-vids of her father, so that many times when she played the images, Chakotay didn't seem too far away. Hannah slowly became used to seeing pictures and videos of him; at the same time she prepared any number of pictures and holo-vids of Hannah and her so that one day, when Chakotay returned to them, he could see Hannah growing up.

Sometimes, when she was desperate, she spoke to Chakotay, indulging in conversation in which she imagined he was sitting on the other side of the imager and listening intently to her. Then she'd tell him of daily happenings, how Hannah was growing like a little weed, and how much she was beginning to resemble Winonah. She'd tell him sometimes how lonely she was without him, and how their baby needed her Daddy. Those were the days she was most hopeful that he'd return to them and take his place to complete their family circle.

The thought of a family circle as she made her way to fetch Hannah at the baby care centre, made her think of Kenneth Dalby again. He had gone to Deep Space Nine at great risk to his life to deliver encrypted messages and a box to Sergei.

Sedeka had infiltrated the Maquis as a Bajoran named Seska. The thought left her cold as she realised that the woman had been far more devious than anyone, even Chakotay, realised.

All the evidence was there, down to the Cardassian DNA match. Once before, Chakotay promised her that Sedeka would no longer trouble them. Now, the woman was dead, killed by Chakotay himself. Kathryn shuddered at the thought. Chakotay had an aggression that, given the provocation, would lead him to kill. She was certain Chakotay had had to defend himself against Sedeka.

Kathryn turned away from that thought. It was Dalby's message to her personally, that occupied her mind as she held her squirming baby and opened her front door. She replayed his message again in her mind...

_"Dear Captain Janeway. My name is Kenneth Dalby and I am Chakotay's second-in-command. He doesn't know of this message but some time I will tell him that I managed to get something through to you. His niece Winonah is still missing and although your husband is making every effort to trace her, we're hitting a wall. Chakotay is simply snowed under with work, and finding Winonah is becoming more and more difficult. I know he may never contact you as all communication between him and you is monitored, even encrypted subspace communication. So, I've taken it upon myself to give you all the information and possibilities Ayala and I have compiled in the search for your niece. There are about a hundred probable places, and I've listed all the co-ordinates for you. If you could start a search, I would be grateful and I am certain Chakotay would rest, assured that there is help from other quarters in trying to find Winonah and so complete your family circle. Her disappearance weighs heavily on his mind, Captain..."_

There had been a pause as Dalby composed the rest of his message, then smiled at her.

_"Your husband is a very private man, Captain; B'Elanna Torres and I are perhaps the only ones on the Liberty who know how he misses his family..."_

She had tears in her eyes when Dalby said that; by the time she closed the message, Hannah was demanding her attention and she had been forced to review all the co-ordinates later, to be transferred to the Crimond.

Hannah squealed the moment she was placed in her play pen in the lounge. It was a warm day outside and when she opened the blinds, maximum natural light to flooded into the room.

"Seems to me you're feeling better, sweetie," Kathryn said as Hannah lay on her belly and proceed to chew away at her fist. Another squeal as Hannah looked up at her in reply. Kathryn smiled indulgently. "That pretty much sums it up, right? Now, please...pretty please, sweetie, could you be still for another fifteen minutes or so? Mommy hasn't had breakfast..."

Kathryn left Hannah in the lounge, hurried to her bedroom where she divested herself of her uniform and quickly donned a comfortable gilet over her long-sleeved blouse and a pair of slacks. She took a quick peek at Hannah on her way to the kitchen, sighed with relief and replicated her cup of strong coffee. Back in the lounge she relaxed in Chakotay's big comfy chair and sipped her coffee with relish. Giving another little sigh, she thought of her mission the next week.

"Admiral, I've already left my baby home for a full month. It's not as if there aren't facilities on board the Crimond - "

"We're in a state of war, Captain Janeway," Admiral Lewis said evenly, his tone more than his words suggesting the danger of taking her baby with her on her mission. "And, we've never considered it good practice for kin to live on board the same vessel..."

"There have been precedents, Admiral," she stated in defense of her position. She wanted Hannah with her for the two months on the Crimond. She’d missed her daughter the last time she had been away, and Hannah had sprouted two teeth in that time. She didn't want to miss her daughter's milestones. Who knew if, in two months when Hannah would be almost eight months old, she might be able to say 'Daddy'. It was wishful thinking, Kathryn knew, but it didn't hurt her to hope. But Admiral Lewis wasn't finished with her.

"We were not at war with the Cardassians then, Captain."

"Admiral, with respect, the Crimond is a family vessel, its purpose is to resettle families on other homeworlds. My ship is not currently engaged," she replied quickly. She knew Lewis's next salvo.

"There are currently four hundred vessels engaged, all of them warships, Captain. The situation is worsening, you must know that. It is not unlikely that the Crimond will be called for duty to defend the Federation - "

She had given a sigh.

"Admiral, I give you my word that when the time comes, I'll make the necessary arrangements for my daughter. But she's still small, and needs me in all my off duty hours..."

Admiral Lewis's shoulders sagged and he lost the tension in them. He wasn't giving up, but Kathryn knew that he had some empathy for her situation. There were a number of female Captains and senior officers in Starfleet, all of them on active duty, and one or two of them had their children accompany them on their missions. Starfleet was still a way off relenting with sensibility on the issue of officers's children on board. The Crimond was fitted with a nursery for those settlers who had small children and it would make sense to have her own baby there, with her. Hannah would be safe, she knew. It was Starfleet that needed to become more open-minded. They were, up to a point, but right now, she needed to fight her own small cause.

Admiral Lewis sighed, laced his fingers where his hands rested on top of his desk and looked at her with keen eyes.

"In the light of your husband not being with presently with you, Captain, I'll say you may go ahead." The slow smile that followed his words was all Kathryn needed. She wanted to hug Admiral Lewis. Bless him and bless Chakotay...

Chakotay.

Kathryn rose suddenly from the deep chair and walked back to the kitchen to rinse her empty cup. A little surprised that she’d finished her coffee, but with no inclination to eat, she walked back to the lounge where Hannah had just started wailing again.

"So much for a short, fifteen minute reprieve," she moaned as she lifted Hannah from her playpen and rocked the crying child gently, stroking the soft, black hair that was so like Chakotay's. "Shhh..." she crooned, walking to the nursery to sit in the rocking chair, hoping the motion of the chair would lull Hannah to sleep.

Minutes later Kathryn was no closer to getting Hannah quiet. Close to tears herself, she rose from the rocking chair and walked to the alcove where she opened her vid-com. A few codes were entered and seconds later, Chakotay's face appeared on the screen. Kathryn smiled through her tears and kissed the top of Hannah's head. She pointed to the screen.

"There, Hannah...it's Daddy."

_Hello, Hannah..._

_I made this recording for you on the day you were born. You were very, very tiny, but your little hands were frantically waving at your Mommy and me..._

Hannah's tears stopped; she became still, her small hands reaching for the screen as if to touch Chakotay's face. Kathryn wiped at her own cheeks, the dampness refusing to leave as Hannah suddenly squealed with delight.

_I don't know if I will ever see you again, my little sweetheart, but I want you to know that you are a part of me that will never leave; so much a part that I will dream of you every day. I know it's hard to grow up without a Daddy, but sweetheart, whenever you're feeling a little blue, just talk to me, will you? I'll always be here..._

Kathryn gave a relieved sigh as Hannah listened, her small, rosy mouth open and dribbling.

_I pinned a little brooch on your bib the day you were born. It bears your name, which was given to you long, long before you were born. We named you for Daddy's own mommy. She was a small woman, but no one could tell her where to get off. I thought when I saw you for the first time, that you were going to be like your grandma Hannah and Mommy. Grandma Hannah was a very feisty woman who took no nonsense from others...and so is your Mommy..._

Kathryn smiled again sadly. She played this message from time to time for Hannah, and the baby stilled whenever she saw her father's face these days. Kathryn wondered idly why she hadn't thought of it the day before when Hannah had been completely unmanageable. She stroked her daughter's hair, kissed the top of her head again as Hannah listened intently.

_Now, sweetie, your Mommy tends to forget some important days._

Kathryn winced. The first year she met Chakotay, he had learned only a few days later, when she belatedly remembered to tell him that it was her birthday. They hadn't known one another well, but even then Kathryn knew she would never love another man.

_When it's Mommy's birthday, you must remind her, will you? You see, sometimes, Mommies don't want anyone to know it's their birthday, or how old they are...especially how old they are. It's a woman thing, they say. But you will remind her. You're going to be every inch as smart as Mommy, so I know I can depend on you, okay?_

Hannah made a few sounds in reply to Chakotay's instruction. He had been sitting in the lounge when he made the recording after leaving the hospital that day and was already dressed in what she presumed would be his Maquis gear. He looked rugged, yet his face still held a lurking tenderness Kathryn knew was there. His eyes as he looked at Hannah were soft and caring.

"There, Hannah. Daddy has spoken and maybe your crying all of yesterday and today was my reminder it's my birthday tomorrow..."

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Hannah turned to look up at her. When she smiled showing her tiny teeth, Kathryn wanted to cry all over again. Was that really why Hannah had been so restless all morning and yesterday? Kathryn wondered. It was amazing. She was constantly confronted with unexpected, inexplicable aspects of raising her baby. Hannah sensed her mother's nearness; she was accustomed to her mother's smell. Always, when Kathryn took her child from either Phoebe, or her mother or Grandpa Adam or even Dalene, the first thing Hannah always did was bury her face in her mother's bosom, breathing in and out, smelling her scent. Could Hannah sense events and her father's presence? Kathryn shook her head. These days, when they showed her pictures of Chakotay, Hannah would go all quiet as she looked at him. It was uncanny; it exploded a few myths she had about babies in general and her own child in particular. It was her birthday tomorrow, but so many things had occupied her lately that she had pushed it to the back of her mind. It was to be just another day, except that she'd share it with her little girl, and she'd have the opportunity, for the first time, to look at the gift Chakotay had left for her so long ago. She’d kept his wonderfully, neatly written letters and, filed in a safe place, the letter he left for Hannah. That note had a thrilling ring to it: "To be opened on your sixteenth birthday". Still, only now, with Hannah so quiet for the first time in two days, could she ponder on Chakotay's gift for her. As soon as Hannah was finished with her lunchtime feed and sleeping peacefully, she could get a well-earned rest herself. She had not prepared anything for her birthday; she missed Chakotay too much and she knew she couldn't celebrate while he was somewhere on the run, his life in danger.

She held the baby to look at the screen again for Chakotay's last words.

_My dearest Hannah, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. I want you to know that one day I will come back, and our little circle will be complete again. Kiss Mommy for me, will you?_

As if Hannah understood his words, the baby squirmed in Kathryn's arms and pressed her face against her mother's bosom. Kathryn's tears dropped hotly on her baby as she looked at Chakotay's face a last time before switching off the vid-com.

"I love you, Chakotay..." came her desperate whisper as she rose from the chair and prepared to settle a much calmer Hannah for the afternoon.

****

It was late evening. Kathryn had been harried again by a too wide awake baby who wanted to play instead of sleep. So Kathryn entertained Hannah who refused to sleep, but at least, she didn't cry as she had in the last two days. The morning Kathryn had been on the point of running over to Medical and have Tom's mother check the baby was when she hit on the idea of showing Hannah her Daddy's picture and his last holo-vid he made for her.

Now, it was she herself who couldn't sit still anywhere. She moved around, paced the lounge, walked to her bedroom and looked longingly at the bottom drawer - Chakotay's drawer - then turned away and out of the room again, only to walk back in and stare again. Once, she opened the drawer and looked at the gift that had been lying there since they moved into his home, an eternity ago it seemed. Once, just before Hannah was born and when so many things had gone wrong between her and Chakotay, Kathryn had opened the drawer and touched the oblong box. It had a letter attached to it, which she opened and which duly warned her that dire bad fortune would befall her if she opened her gift. She wondered then how Chakotay could have known she would try to do it.

"He should have known I'm incurably curious," she muttered to herself as she slumped into his chair and expelled a sigh.

Kathryn imagined she heard Chakotay reply: "Darling, it's because I know you so well. But it will be to your credit this time if you could exercise some restraint..."

Sometimes, he was like Adam Ponsonby - a merciless tease in the driest manner possible.

Where Chakotay was concerned, she had no problem not exercising restraint. She dreamed some nights they were making love, dreamed he was lying next to her; when she woke up, there was an empty space beside her, cold and empty. Her hand would be stretched out to his side as she reached for him even in her sleep. There were nights she woke up and hardly realised that she had been crying until she touched her cheek and felt the dampness there. It was difficult without him, but she managed her life as best as she could. Still, her baby needed a Daddy who was present, who would dote on her as she just knew Chakotay would.

The thought had often come to her that it must have been the most incredibly difficult decision to make when he decided to leave wife and child and pursue a life with the Maquis. He loved her; on the day she gave birth to Hannah there was nothing in the entire universe that blessed her more in those moments than when Chakotay had made an all out effort to be by her side, even with a vindictive Phoebe ready to phaser him out of existence because she believed Chakotay had ruined her life. Nothing could have been more precious, and never had he shown his love more than he did then, than when he stood by her bedside, hesitant, afraid that she would reject him. She had seen the hunger in his eyes, seen how his eyes fixed on her swollen belly. She knew then that she had been given a reprieve, a generous and merciful reprieve to make restitution. By accepting him back into her life unconditionally, by waiving all the pain inflicted by him, she had given him back his life and made him whole again. Then, she had taken his pain and made it hers.

His decision to leave was made because he was finally assured of her love, finally convinced of their unbreakable bond. When the war was over, he would come back to them and they would be a family again.

But right now? She missed him fiercely. Hannah did remind her of an auspicious day in her life, after all. Now, she waited out the last hour before she would officially be thirty eight years old, when she could rush to her bedroom, pull out the drawer with child-like excitement and tear the ribbon off the oblong box. Hannah was mercifully asleep after Kathryn had sung her "Hannah klein, ging allein..." over and over until the child's eyes drooped and she slipped into a peaceful slumber. Before the lullaby, Kathryn had been reading stories, but none seemed to impress on her daughter that it was really time to sleep and give her mother a few well-earned hours of rest. For a moment Kathryn wondered how her own mother handled Hannah, but then, with Adam Ponsonby by her side, they could take turns with pyjama drill. Now she was on her own, caring for a fractious child who, unconsciously it seemed to her, pined for her father. For the short period they were here in San Francisco, Kathryn had decided to leave Ceara behind in Indiana. The dog might have been a diversion for Hannah. Kathryn sighed. Who knows, soon Ceara could be a permanent fixture here in their home, if only Chakotay...

If only Chakotay...Chakotay...Chakotay...

She must have dozed off because she jerked awake, a little disoriented as she stared around her. What day was it? What was the time? Where was she? She felt warm and snug in the easy chair, stretching languidly when she felt finally awake. Hurrying to the nursery she made sure that Hannah was still sleeping peacefully, gently caressing her baby's hair. She grinned. Since Hannah's birth she had used the baby transponder to great effect as she worried through the night whether her baby was breathing. She padded to her bedroom and glanced quickly at the chronometer. It was a few minutes after twelve.

She sucked in her breath and her heart thundered wildly against her ribcage.

"Finally," she whispered, "I can look at my gift...finally."

Her instinctive urge to tear into the chest of drawers and grab with ill-concealed zeal at the gift left her as she reached hesitantly for the long, silver box, balancing it carefully in her hands before rising to her feet again. She walked to the lounge, her feet carrying her inexorably to Chakotay's chair again. Pulling her feet up, she drew her robe round her, making herself comfortable in the depths of the easy chair. Her face felt warm and she knew she was flushed from the excitement. "I remember when I was little, Chakotay, the heady feeling when I could open my Christmas gift that had lain under the tree for days..." she murmured. "I remember the expectant look on my Daddy's face the one birthday he was home, waiting to see how I would react..."

I miss you so...

Like Chakotay promised, even on her birthday, he was with her in the spirit. She couldn't help but smile as she opened the box carefully...looked, blinked, then gasped.

She was still for a few heart stopping seconds.

Of all the gifts she had imagined - her favourite perfume, a pendant, a bracelet, an anthology of poems, a favourite novel, something unique and feminine, perhaps - she had not imagined what she was looking at. Almost reverently she lifted the ancient fob watch from its velvet bedding, the chain dangling over the back of her hand as she studied its detail. It was in Sterling silver, an analogue watch that even as she checked, showed the time correctly: nine minutes past twelve. It had a third hand that busily ticked away the seconds. Her heart beat in her throat, the third hand ticking like a metronome in close rhythm with her heartbeat. She felt faint for a moment, aware that she must have paled considerably. The watch fell from her limp hand and rested in her lap. How had tears dripped down and soaked into the soft cloth on which the watch lay? How, through her tears, did she still manage to see a small white object peering from underneath it in one corner? How?

With trembling fingers she pulled it out; somehow she had known it would be the familiar parchment Chakotay always used when he wrote on paper. Hardly noticing that the box also slid from her hand, she opened the letter.

A sob.

_My dearest Kathryn,_

_If you are reading this letter, then I am not by your side and I am so very deeply sorry that I cannot be there with you and for you. My hope and all my dreams since I met you have always been to be the warrior who will remain by your side forever, to love you and protect you. I am not with you and it pains me to the core that you are again celebrating your birthday without me there to add to your blessings._

_This gift I give to you as a timeless element in our bond. It belonged to a nineteenth century Captain of a British Royal Navy vessel. It may not be nearly enough to see you through your lonely hours, but Kathryn, I want you to remember that I am always thinking of you. You came into my life when I had given up hope of ever relinquishing my heart as I did. I was searching aimlessly and when I found you, I reached the end of my journey. I found you and knew that with you in my life, I would be whole._

_Isn't life strange? This is the third year of our blessed relationship and the third time I will have missed your birthday, though I swear by the spirits, I will never forget. Bear this gift as a token of the eternal flame of my love for you._

_Chakotay._

On an impulse, Kathryn picked up the watch from her lap and turned it over to look at an inscription engraved on the back:

_For Kathryn - eternal flame._

Kathryn's soft sobs filled the quiet spaces in the room. Chakotay had not forgotten her. A gift that had lain in his drawer since they met, had been for her. He had chosen the time that would be the best time to present her with a gift that more than anything in the world, symbolised for them the timelessness of their union. Picking up the box and letter Kathryn rose from the chair and walked slowly to the bedroom where she lay down on Chakotay's side of the bed. His pillow she imagined, still smelled of him, and she imagined his pillow still smelled of him, and for heart wrenching moments, she pretended he was there with her. Kathryn buried her face in the pillow and allowed her tears to burn searing trails down her cheek, to soak into the sheet. In her hand she held his watch with the chain linked through her fingers.

Long she cried until her tears were no more and when only her dry sobs could be heard, the night settled again to peace and quiet. Kathryn's fingers became limp and slowly her hand opened and the watch lay, face up, in her hand. In the swirling mists of sleep, for a last time, Kathryn heard Chakotay's voice, drifting to her on eagles' wings.

_My love, my life..._

**************************

A soft glissando, fleetingly bathed in the blue spray of the transporter beam, and he stood in his bedroom. Chakotay stared down at Kathryn as she lay bathed in the light of the moon that seemed to hover just above her window. She lay on her side, on his side of the bed, he realised with pain, and in her open hand the watch lay gleaming in the semi-dark. Yet, she lay still, as still as he always remembered her.

Her cheeks were tear-stained, and even as he looked, there appeared to be a glistening of tears still on her face. A nerve in his jaw twitched. Somewhere inside him, a raw sob wanted to burst towards the surface and proclaim his presence to her.

He heard something and realised the apparatus on her bedside was recording Hannah's breathing. Only, he heard not so much breathing as a soft cry. Turning on his heel, he slowly, quietly walked out of the room to the nursery.

He had not seen his wife and child in almost six months. In the nursery the light was at half illumination. Drawn instantly to the crib he had built himself, Chakotay couldn't keep his eyes off the small infant occupying it. He walked round it, looked into it and stood still for an eternity.

An angel lay on her side, her face turned to the door of the nursery. Hannah's cheeks were rosy and flushed with sleep. She looked warm and snug, with a thumb engagingly clasped between red-red lips. He wanted to touch her, bend down and reach to her. A giant invisible hand held him back and he retreated. He could only look and look and look. Hannah was breathing evenly in the blessed, unhurried manner of infants who knew no care in the universe. The sleep of the completely innocent marked the way his daughter slept - total abandonment in the profound, instinctive knowledge that upon waking, a soft voice and gentle hands would be there, ready to tend to a whim, hold, comfort and rock, and endlessly reassuring.

He had last seen her the day she was born, freshly come into the world, proclaiming with a plaintive cry her presence and dominance in the lives of two people who would love her until the day they died. He had placed his hand over Kathryn's as she held her slippery, bloodied, unwashed infant, crinkly and pink and crying, and fell in love with a child who held his heart hostage, just like her mother did. As he had seen from her photographs he had known her black hair and pinkish-alabaster skin and blue-grey eyes and the dimple that formed in her cheek as she sucked, would be a unique result of the partnership of Chakotay and Kathryn.

They were moments hallowed as he gazed at his daughter; an impossibly awe-inspiring moment in which he touched the very heart of the Grey Eagle. Tied to him in an invisible bond for all time, was the tiny baby, as sweetly innocent in sleep as she would be utterly captivating in her waking moments. Could Hannah know how she captured her father's heart? He watched her breathing, so blessed, so peacefully that it seemed sacrilege to touch her and intrude on dreams of flowers and angels and clouds and all things beautiful. Undisturbed, untouched by the world's turmoil she lay and breathed, her thumb now excused from the pleasure of warm, soft, rosy lips.

His hands gripped the white rail of the crib and for several moments, Chakotay closed his eyes and drifted to a realm where freedom reigned and the sky was blue and clouds were benevolent cushions he could rest his weary head against. He saw Hannah at three years, running towards him calling "Daddy! Daddy!" as he opened his arms to catch her; Hannah at five years, her long hair flowing behind her as she sat on a swing, commanding "Higher, Daddy!"

_Daddy, are clouds animals?_

_Only when you imagine them to be, honey._

_Daddy, will I be a scientist one day, like Mommy?_

_Whatever you dream of wanting to be, honey._

_Daddy, do fairies really exist?_

_Have you seen one?_

_No, Daddy, but someday I will!_

_Daddy, how did you and Mommy meet?_

_Daddy, you kiss Mommy all the time!_

_Daddy, is the Phoenix at the Smithsonian?_

_Daddy...Daddy...Daddy..._

Eyes closed, Chakotay felt tears burning down weary cheeks.

************************

Waking suddenly, yet not frightened, aware that Hannah's breathing had quickened, Kathryn rose from the bed and pulled her robe over her. It was quiet, but she sensed that there was a presence. Had something - a waft of air perhaps? - just touched her moments before? Did that presence touch her as surely as if she had been awake and felt it? There were no warnings, no predetermined clue that she had to get up and walk slowly to the nursery, yet she rose from her bed as if the touching had sparked a fluid movement from sleep to waking with no pause in breathing or thinking about sounds or disturbances or the odd feeling that an intruder meant harm.

What was the sensation of apprehension mixed with anticipation that suddenly took hold of her? Why was she not afraid? It was as if the very ambience of her home breathed warm assurance that no peril awaited in the next room. Instead, her body tingled and for a brief moment she shivered and pulled the robe tighter around her waist, the only sensation a sense that someone was in Hannah's room. The door to the nursery always stood open; the shaft of light that bathed the floor just outside it, welcomed Kathryn as she came to a halt just inside the doorway.

Chakotay stood there, a tired, weary man whose eyes were closed and whose tears ran unchecked down weathered cheeks.

She took in the hands that clamped convulsively on the rail of the crib, the lips that seemed to move as if in prayer, a nerve that never stopped twitching. Chakotay was somewhere, dwelling in a realm where only he and Hannah existed. Kathryn did not resent the exclusion, for she knew that her moment would come too. For now he belonged to Hannah and Hannah alone. Once, when Hannah had been a month old, she’d told her a story, a legend Chakotay had made up and told her in one of their contemplative moments together.

_"Is there really a legend, Chakotay?"_

_Of course, Kathryn. How else could a warrior vow to stay by your side forever?_

She started telling Hannah about the legend as the child looked at her with clear eyes and listened.

Kathryn reveled in watching father and daughter, although it hurt her to witness his struggle, the burning tears. He looked so rugged, so unlike what she had always imagined him. Months ago, he had been in uniform, with four pips pinned to his collar. Her eyes welled with tears. He stood there, his frame commanding as she had never seen, dressed in his Maquis attire. Absently she noted the phaser, the d'k tagh, the site-to-site transporter attached to his waist band. The jacket fitted snugly, accentuating his muscular frame. The tattoo that she had touched so reverently the day she gave birth, gleamed in the golden light.

His face, drawn and tired, was marked by pain yet it exuded something sublime, as if heaven touched him and ecstasy transcended him to those portals, dissolving all past hurt, all longing, all hunger for a home he thought he could never share with her.

_If you ask me if I sympathise, Admiral Nechayev, then I have to tell you 'yes'._

Only when Hannah began to shift restlessly, did Chakotay open his eyes and gaze hungrily at the baby. Hungrily and for a few heart-wrenching seconds, not knowing what to do when Hannah's plaintive wail filled the room.  

Chakotay did not see her, even when she walked to the crib and lifted Hannah out gently. Kathryn held the baby to him, and his eyes filled with wonder as Hannah looked up at him, her tears suddenly gone.

"Here, Chakotay..." Kathryn said softly.

Hannah stopped crying the moment he took the baby from her and held her protectively against him. He rocked her gently, closing his eyes again as he gloried in the feel of his daughter safely in his arms. He opened his eyes and gazed into Hannah's eyes. She was wide awake and the next moment, her face broke into a bright smile, dimples forming in both cheeks as her tiny hands came up to touch his face.

"Oh, Hannah..."

Kathryn stood a little away from him, allowing him the very private moment in which he gathered the baby to him and sobbed. When he stopped, he held the baby and caressed her cheeks, stroked the downy hair already grown into Hannah's neck. Then he dropped a feather light kiss on her forehead and Hannah squealed happily.

Only then did Chakotay smile.

His eyes shone as he looked from Hannah to Kathryn, then gazed at Hannah again.

"She's beautiful, Kathryn," he whispered hoarsely.

"She has been waiting for you, Chakotay. Her whole life..."

Chakotay smiled again, the lines of stress suddenly gone. He looked less tired, though the hunger never left his eyes. Hannah's eyes started drooping again and Chakotay stared with wonder at how she fell asleep again, hardly a murmur escaping her as he placed her very gently back in her crib and pulled the blanket over her. She lay on her back this time, her face towards him and again, Chakotay smiled as her fist settled against her mouth and she started a sucking motion. His hand reached instinctively for Kathryn, a little shock going through him at the warmth and the old familiarity of touching her.

"She won't wake up again?" he asked, suddenly sounding a little out of breath. Kathryn smiled tenderly, gave his hand a squeeze.

"She'll sleep through..."

There was a long pause, one in which Chakotay gazed into her eyes with so much hunger that her own heartbeat quickened at the thought of his lips touching hers in a second. She hadn't given it any thought, not consciously, that he was home, or why he was here and for how long. None of those questions appeared serious in the first rush of emotion at seeing him. What was it she felt?

His presence was a gift from the very heavens that made her wake from her dream and meander with it into the realm of reality, all in a continuous motion where illusion and reality merged and Chakotay's presence was an extension of her dream. He was here; as she wakened to actual reality, it gradually dawned on her that Chakotay's presence was a miracle. It was her birthday and her silent, wordless prayers and supplication and dreams and desires that he be with her, burgeoned into a fullness where she could see him and touch him and know he was real.

Her hand reached for him, to touch his tattoo with such reverence, that her own eyes closed and the single tear that rolled down her cheek went no further as she felt herself drawn into his embrace and the tear soaked into his jacket. A hand cupped her head and she pressed her face into his chest, and inhaling deeply. A touch of lips on her hair and she lost herself in the feel of his strong, strong arms around her, holding her so close, close, close...

She heard a sob.

When at last he held her away from him, a smile hovered on his lips.

"Happy birthday, Kathryn..."

She could only look at him and experience the wonder of being with him in their home. A lump in her throat, words that choked and went no further than unexpressed thoughts. His movements were unhurried as he touched her cheek, his fingers trailing hotly down her neck, hovering butterfly-soft on her collar-bone and slowly moving over her breast.

A flash, a sob again and a deep, deep sigh rose from her very depths as she felt herself lifted in her husband's arms. Did they float? Did Chakotay's feet leave the floor and move without volition yet unerringly in the direction of their bedroom? Did she hear his breathing - low, yet urgent and feel his lips against her forehead so that she couldn't say for certain if he was touching her or where? Were their bodies in a state of burning? It couldn't be, the thought sprang like a stray wisp of down that drifted aimlessly to the floor, or rose as the air lifted it to swirl about in ethereal abandon. Were they drifting on a cloud - on the thousand clouds that in her dreams told her of passion long denied? Did she feel his breath against her skin and wonder that it was the very breath of God that descended on them and blessed their union and gave them assurance that all was well with them and that when sacrifices were made, they were never made in vain?

What were Chakotay's arms around her body but that they represented his very presence, the gentle, welcome cocoon of warmth where she could lay her own weary head and let him take care of her? What were his wide, wide shoulders and broad, hard chest but an anchor in their sea of clouds where once they were tossed around at will by forces not of their own making? What was the anchor but that it once again told her that her Warrior had never, ever left her?

Kathryn felt the soft creak of the bed as Chakotay lay her gently down on it. The haze that enveloped her assimilated all feeling, yet intensified each one, giving each sensation a new, exciting and charged quality that was beyond description. This night, this day, this moment belonged to her; the softness of the light and the welcome of the dark joined and mellowed into a quiet fusion of illumination in which Kathryn allowed her body to be the devout and exclusive property of the hands which ministered to it. Did she hear the sounds coming from the gates of heaven to accompany their journey, a pilgrimage to places once so dear and memorable, to sojourn there again and give blessing once again for a destination reached?

"Touch me..." came his soft command. She complied, divesting him of clothing in the still dazed cocoon she found herself, where time stood still and bowed in reverence before them, enclosing them so that when finally, their skins tingled in the light waft of air that hovered in the room, this place became a bed of clouds that gave them warmth and stillness.

Once, he held the sides of her head and looked deeply into her fevered eyes. She saw in his the same fever, the same hunger and when his mouth touched hers again, she had no idea that his fingers wiped away at the tears that kept flowing.

In the stillness, their sounds rent the air in painful gasps, soft moans and little cries as lips sought hungrily for waiting breasts and aureoles. He slid his body along hers, met her gaze once, her hands gripping his shoulders as he moved wordlessly down again - excruciating, slow movement in which his burning mouth journeyed over plains never forgotten but long denied, resting on peaks that jutted eagerly, caught, nipped, bitten, then to be left when his mouth found another little oasis and rested there. Another soft cry as Chakotay's tongue sought her navel, her fingers that had long moved from his shoulders gripping ineffectually at his hair that already felt damp. Her body heaved in anticipation of his final destination, where the pilgrim would end his journey and start all over again. Deep, soft gasping as he buried his face against her smooth belly, and near the end of its delta overflowed the juices, sweet nectar that her quivering body begged he should sup on as another cry left her.

She felt his mouth grazing the damp curls, and exploded in a thousand stars when at last, lips and tongue joined in a concert of touching, licking, sucking and nipping at her core where every fold and pore, her very nub quivered with the rest of her as she gave herself up and lost herself in a release of sensations that swayed...swayed, then rocked into a swirling vortex that increased in deep gasps and quick, small cries - faster and faster and faster until the moment when she felt she could no longer contain herself, burst in helpless, glorious abandon from her lips the anguished, pained and pleasured cries as her body danced in rhythm to his flicking and searing mouth and tongue, arched wildly closer to him, not wishing to lose contact and at the very height of it, crashed in thunderous waves crashed.

She went up, up, up...until she touched the clouds that welcomed the pained pleasure as her body rocked and all control was lost somewhere, timeless, mindless...

Chakotay's mouth rested on her as he waited for her.

Where had she traveled to? she wondered. She could only see white clouds, heaven's gates she touched as music filled the air and joined with her cries as she drifted down, this time, not aimlessly, but held by Chakotay as he guided her to awareness again.

His body slid up hers again, now wet and sleek from perspiration. She felt his arousal and when she desired to touch him there, he allowed her a brief sojourn only.

"It aches, sweet Kathryn...you must know..."

"I know, my Warrior..." she replied as she shifted under him, lifted her hips, her eyes never leaving his, she welcomed him with parted lips. A slow journey as his tip hovered, nudged, then burned into her warm sheath, tight, yet slowly adjusting and swelling as she drew him into her. There was a searing heat as he buried himself in her sheath - thick and wet with her own juices, her sleek passage moist enough that she felt no pain from long privation. Chakotay gave the deepest groan yet as he shuddered against her, her own hands caressing damp skin, jerkily thrusting fingers into his hair, digging into flesh as he began his slow thrusts, every thrust accompanied by a deep, satisfying moan as their eyes remained connected. Once she drew his face to her and kissed him while he pushed into her, her juices spilling liberally around him. Her tongue licked at him, salt expressions of exertion and desire, salt expressions of tears that always kept falling as she gave him her body, took his to her and together, in synchronised movement, rocked and shuddered and quivered and pleasured as sometimes Chakotay pulled away from her almost to his tip, then ground his body hard into her again. Long, slow thrusts alternating with short, frenzied pushing until their bodies became one movement again, journeying up once more where soon they were lost in the maelstrom they created, faster and faster as their little cries, or grunts and mingling of soft breaths filled the quiet air in the room.

No longer could Kathryn contain herself when her body spiraled out of control and she was lost somewhere where heaven touched her again.

Did she cry Chakotay's name then?

Were they his desperate cries she heard as they crashed into timeless nothingness again?

What were those sounds she heard? Did they emanate from the heavens and sift to bathe them in angel's chords and euphonic song?

Their breathing, first heavy in deep gasps, gradually became lighter, and more even as she felt Chakotay once again hold her as they drifted down from the clouds.

***************

He’d hungered for her for more than a year. Yet, when they came together, Kathryn's skin, translucent alabaster, gleamed in the moonlight that streamed into the room and once again, like so many times before, its beauty enthralled him. Kathryn lay under him, bearing his weight as he collapsed in spasms, hardly able to breathe normally. Her lips were parted, very, very rosy and soft and well-kissed as she kept her gaze on him. He dipped his mouth into her neck and remained there for heavy seconds as he smelled her hair again - rich apples mingled, oddly, with brandy.

He was still hard in her, as aroused as he had been when he lifted her in his arms in the nursery and carried her to their room. When he wanted to move away, to dislodge himself from her, her body twitched in frantic objection, and a tiny sound emanated from her. He sensed, as he always did when his body reclaimed instantly all its old territories and explored them as if they were new to him, that she wanted to him to stay in her.

She kept him alive as he lay over her, her hips moving in a soft ensemble of gasps, twists, arches, fingers that kneaded his back rhythmically, heaving breasts that even as he tried to look away, drew his eyes inexorably to them, unable to keep his mouth from covering them, to release briefly and press fevered lips against her forehead; eyes that closed and revealed the well of tears that since they'd joined, never left them. His shaft burned, quivered, listened for the slightest change in the tenor of her movement and small cries, and slowly, Chakotay began to thrust into Kathryn again, languid thrusting that served as a benediction after the sanctity of their union, again scaling chords that could not help but reach for the heavens again in a rousing, gloriously ethereal crescendo of sound and movement.

Kathryn sighed deeply as they came down; her hair was damp, her eyes soft and tender, her lips always rosy and her cheeks, streaked with tears, always flushed. He lay, his open mouth against her moist skin. For moments undefined, he remained like that over her. When he moved finally, it was to raise his face to hers again, to kiss her hair, her brows, her forehead, her cheeks and finally, her lips. All the while her hands traveled over his back, the touch heavenly, springing into coursing ecstasy again and again.

So began his journey over her body as he touched with searing lips every pore, every line, every plane and dip and rise, every waiting peak; her skin was clammy, flushed from their lovemaking, and he reveled in licking away the wetness. When he reached her delta again, he remained there the longest to inhale and register her smells - their smells - and record them for eternity. They invaded his senses, drove out of his mind and heart all other sensations to establish Kathryn Janeway as an indelible part of him, an extension of his own heart and mind, an equal giver and taker of everything they desired to share. All over her body he inhaled her, breathing in deeply and allowing the sensations of feminine musk and magic of the night into his being as whorls of perpetual desire coursed in the knowledge that Kathryn belonged to him.

And Kathryn let him explore her body. She held nothing back and offered generously all of her. Sometime during the night, he knew, she would do the same to him and he would lie under her while she, like a cat, feral and sensual, crawled softly over him and tasted him.

When at last he felt sated, he lay next to her; unwilling to lose the connection of skin against skin, he still held her in his embrace while he caressed her hair and reveled in the way she touched his brow, trailing her fingers along the lines of his tattoo. Then her fingers rested against his lips; the action to kiss came instinctively. She lay in his arms, her hand resting trustingly against his broad chest while he placed his own hand over hers, his lips moving in wordless thanks.

Later, Chakotay looked at her again when he felt her breathing soft and even against his skin. She lay sleeping, and he smiled, for he knew that her sleep would be brief.

********

They woke later, and again, Chakotay felt how Kathryn initiated their lovemaking. They gasped, shuddered, moved languidly, kissing, licking at tears that rolled again. When it was over, Chakotay held her in his arms.

"I love you, Kathryn," he broke the silence for the first time.

"I can't imagine a day without you..." she replied.

Then the silence descended again.

"How long, Chakotay?" she asked finally the question that hadn't entered her mind when she saw him standing in the nursery.

"A few hours," he replied without hesitation. She had to know. Yet, it was as if she sensed it anyway.

"Then it is good, my love."

*******

In the early hours, Hannah cried and Chakotay, wrapped in Kathryn's arms, his legs entwined with hers, extricated himself gently from his wife and pulled on a robe that hung behind the door. He smiled tenderly. Kathryn, he realised quickly during the night, had restored everything in their home as it had been before she left him, an eternity ago it seemed. His robe always hung there. On the Liberty, he was mostly in sweat pants or old boxers when he slept. Here, he was again imbued with the lifestyle so reminiscent of what they'd once shared.

He looked back once to see Kathryn snuggling into the covers, slowly wakening. He smiled again as he entered the nursery and lifted Hannah out. On the compactum that Sergei and Svetlana gave them, he lay Hannah and prepared for her nappy change. He frowned as she looked at him with wide eyes in which just seconds before there had been tears.

"Don't worry, Hannah. Daddy will look after you..." he promised. Hannah squeaked gleefully as he tried to open her sleeper and pull it down. "Now what," he murmured as he stared down at her, not knowing what to do next.

"Now you clean her, Chakotay..." he heard Kathryn's voice.

He looked sheepishly at her.

"I guess I need some assistance here," he said.

Together they worked on the baby, Kathryn teaching him how to change Hannah's diaper, smiling through his own clumsiness of too large hands handling a too small and squirming body. When Hannah was changed and freshly powdered, Kathryn held the baby up to him. He held Hannah close to him while Kathryn prepared a feed, for it seemed to him Hannah wanted her milk, she was sucking so industriously at her thumb, or when she knocked her little head against his chest, he felt her lips busily looking for something.

"Come," Kathryn said as she beckoned to him and they returned to the bedroom where they settled themselves under the covers again with the baby. Kathryn made him shift in such a way that he could hold Hannah and give her the bottle. The baby reached greedily for it and Chakotay laughed at the way Hannah sucked.

"She's beautiful, Kathryn," he repeated his words of earlier.

"She looks like you."

"She'll be a scientist like her Mommy."

"Oh, no. She'll fly to the stars. Don't you worry. She reaches mostly for the eagles on her mobile..."

"Really?"

"Really."

When Hannah was finished, Kathryn let him wind the baby and he grinned when Hannah expelled little burps. Then, because she appeared so wide awake and expected to be played with, Daddy complied, blowing bubbles against her cheeks, lifting her up so that she squealed with delight. Kathryn watched indulgently as he played with Hannah, pausing briefly to kiss her hair or her cheeks. Often he would reach over to kiss Kathryn too and his heart burst with pride as mother and daughter both smiled. Sometimes, his smile became a sad twist as he remembered Winonah and Kathryn, sensing his mood, would say: "We'll find her, Chakotay." The complete certainty with which she spoke, made him sigh with relief again before Hannah would claim his attention. Only then, as Hannah's dimpled smile bewitched him all over again, did he remember something. He placed the baby carefully back in her mother's arms before rising from the bed, shuffling his discarded clothing out of the way to pick up a parcel that must have lain there all the time. When he settled next to Kathryn again, he took off the wrapping and showed Hannah her new toy.

"Oh, it's a targ," Kathryn exclaimed. Hannah didn't look too interested, but just pulled the targ to her and started chewing away at its ears.

"It's B'Elanna who suggested it," Chakotay said proudly.

"B'Elanna?"

"Yes, B'Elanna Torres, my engineer. She's half-Klingon, half human. She - she knows about us, Kathryn. Not many on my ship know of the life I had."

"B'Elanna must be good..." Kathryn said reflectively.

"One day, I hope you'll meet her and you'll wish she were in Starfleet as your Chief Engineer. That is how good she is, Kathryn. I - I found her while Cardassians - " Chakotay paused suddenly, his eyes closing at the memory.

"Your pain is mine too, remember?" Kathryn reminded him.

"They raped her..." Chakotay sighed softly. "She's recovering, Kathryn. I - I killed all of them."

He didn’t want to talk about it, and Kathryn sensed it. He had precious little time with them, and no bad memories could intrude. Kathryn nodded and squeezed his arm. Hannah had nodded off again and was snuggling sleepily against him.

"It's still early, Chakotay. She'll sleep again till morning..."

**

While Hannah slept, they made love again, unable to satisfy their hunger and slake their thirst. They were hungry, greedy to taste and feel and smell and look deeply into one another's eyes as they reached their climax, in breathless wonder that time stood still for them and respectfully allowed them to continue their feasting.

Later, they sat down to a light meal, which she prepared, and he told her he’d never tasted better pancakes than these. They fed each other, laughed, joyously shining in their patent happiness of sharing. He raised an eyebrow when she selected tea instead of coffee and then explained how she'd had to go off coffee during her pregnancy and how she toned down her intake after Hannah was born. She had given him a wry grin, and his heart turned over at the familiar expression. He reached to smooth her hair away from her face as she looked down on her empty plate. He had always tried to tell her she drank too much coffee. He shook his head and remarked that it seemed he'd gotten his way at last.

In the lounge he sat down in his easy chair and she made herself comfortable on his lap, her arms round his neck; while they talked, he kissed her from time to time and she planted feather light caresses all over him, especially his tattoo and his lips and his cheeks. He held her close to him, and even as he felt Kathryn becoming sleepy again, she remained wide eyed, listening to his voice, the soft tone calming and peaceful, with none of the turmoil that ravaged the world present in their little cocoon.

He told her of Seska, how she infiltrated his vessel and how he killed her. She told him of Nechayev, how she tried to infiltrate the private life of Kathryn and Chakotay and how she wished that she could kill Nechayev. He said how sorry he was that she had to go through that trauma alone and she told him how she drew her strength from him, her courage from her Warrior who'd taught her to be brave. She could face her enemy and be unafraid, she told him. He told her of his crew, of Kenneth Dalby who was his first mate and good friend. He told her how Ken's wife had died and Kathryn sighed in deep sympathy for their cause. They'd saved many, many others from the fate his mother and sister and the women of Dorvan V had suffered. He told her how every woman and refugee they could help, stilled the demons one by one in them, and gave them some reward for their cause. She told him that Hannah would accompany her on her next mission and he was surprised.

"I guess you fought for that one, didn't you?"

"Admiral Lewis finally relented. He said it was mainly because my husband wasn't with me..."

His eyes had become clouded, but she kissed away his concern quickly. He sighed.

"It's war, Kathryn."

"Admiral Lewis said that too, Chakotay. The Crimond is not engaged yet. I'll be very careful. You know that, honey."

"Hmmm..." came his muffled reply as he buried his face in her bosom.

"The Crimond will be my last mission."

"And then, Kathryn?"

"I suppose, a new vessel. It's shrouded in secrecy. No one knows."

"Except the Admirals."

"Yes, Chakotay."

"I love you, Kathryn..."

She told him that Tom Paris had reconciled with his father and Chakotay smiled at that, saying that he knew Kathryn would have been instrumental somewhere in that reconciliation. He knew that there had been no joy in keeping his distance from his father and that his own arrogant and selfish youthful had been spent like that. He thanked Kathryn again for being so insistent and encouraging him to meet his own father again.

"And Tom didn't send them away?" Chakotay asked.

"No. I think the day I - "

Chakotay had seen Kathryn's deep and momentary distress, but she pressed on.

"The day I left for Dorvan V to tell you of Hannah, I relayed him a message from his mother. He must have remembered my words to him. His parents love him very much, you know."

"I know, my Kathryn..."

"So I told Tom about my husband who had a father called Kolopak, and how Kolopak loved Chakotay without condition and took him into his heart saying that Chakotay had never been gone from it. I told Tom that, Chakotay..."

There was a long pause.

"Paris was a very angry young man. He sold us his services, Kathryn," Chakotay chided gently, "but I guess, in retrospect, that it was just part of the package of anger and bitterness at not being understood and not understanding his parents' affection for him..."

"His father, especially, Chakotay. You know Owen Paris. It's difficult to penetrate his reserve. Tom suffered, I think. But yes, he did make the effort to understand why his father was so hard on him."

"Then I am glad, Kathryn, that they are reconciled. Now, with our own baby busy growing up, I know how important it is..."

Kathryn had given a deep sigh, nuzzled her face in his thick terry robe and hugged him convulsively.

"I love your gift, Chakotay. I haven't said 'thank you' yet," Kathryn said, suddenly looking up at him.

"I've always had it. I knew the day I gave it to someone, it would be to a person I love more than life itself."

Kathryn was quiet again. They were aware of the time now as the early morning broke in grey and dark blue through the window of the lounge. Only their breathing, as if in preparation for the inevitable, broke into the silence. Chakotay gathered Kathryn up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom where silently, in pained reverence, he worshipped her body again, and she his.

When his name broke haltingly from her, he gave an exultant cry when he too, spilled into her as she became one with him. This time, there were no tears, just a dry-eyed peaceful acceptance.

"I love you, Chakotay..."

***

He had taken Hannah from her crib and placed her in Kathryn's arms. Both were sleeping peacefully in the big bed. Kathryn's hand spontaneously caressed her baby's head, her lips touching the small forehead even as her eyes were closed. She was exhausted, and Hannah was still too sleepy to disturb her mother's rest. Kathryn had shifted naturally to a position where Hannah was lying against her, safe from being squashed against her mother's body. Chakotay smiled. Even in her sleep, Kathryn was careful with her baby, and attuned to her needs.

Chakotay had showered and dressed. His hand went to his d'k tahg, the phaser, the site-to-site transporter where his fingers hesitated a fraction before he removed it from his waistband. Bending over his sleeping wife and child, he kissed first Kathryn lightly against her temple, then planted a soft kiss on Hannah's head. His hand touched the white, beribboned folded paper that peeped narrowly from under the pillow.

He stepped back and watched them sleep. Long, long moments he stood there, arms at his sides. The watch he had presented to Kathryn lay on his pillow, the hands resting at one minute past seven.

With a sigh, Chakotay raised the site-to-site transporter and entered the co-ordinates.

A second later, he departed in the soft glissando of the transporter beam.

***

**END OF CHAPTER THIRTY ONE**


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers who follow this story will see that I have endeavoured to kind of keep the canon aspects for the story. Like the Sedeka/Seska affair, for instance. Stay tuned!

August 2371 

At eight months old, Hannah was proving to be handful, Kathryn realised wryly. Gone was the quiet baby who in the first three months was mostly sedate, crying on cue, so to speak, whenever she was hungry or when she needed a diaper change. A few more teeth sprouted in the last two months and Hannah progressed prodigiously to the baby chattering stage. Already she could say "da-da", and very soon "ma-ma" would be added to her growing vocabulary. According to Gretchen Janeway and Adam and Phoebe and Rodea and Svetlana, Hannah was a model baby, pleasuring one and all around her with her dimpled smiles and flailing hands whenever she was placed in her bath tub. 

Hannah was no longer quiet or just plain baby biddable sweet. 

Suddenly, in the last two and a half months, all that changed. It was as if Hannah woke up from a deep slumber, realised the world had much to offer in the line of starships and eagles on a mobile and friendly faces that continued to look down into her crib or people who stopped Kathryn as she walked Hannah in her stroller in the park of Headquarters and cooed and oohed over a smiling baby. Hannah remained awake as long as she could at night, woke up in the very early morning demanding attention and already started pulling herself up against coffee table legs, couch seats and crawling towards the kitchen where she tried to reach the replicator. Already, Chakotay's drawer could be opened and at least once a day Kathryn had to fold his things neatly and place it back in the drawer. Hannah was fascinated by Chakotay's things. Somehow, the baby sensed what was Chakotay's and what was Kathryn's and made a regular bee-line to the sand paintings, the medicine wheel, his bottom drawer, even to trying to pull his robe from the hook behind their bedroom door. 

Kathryn smiled at that thought. She had, since she returned to Chakotay's apartment, put back all his things he hadn't thought of taking with him on the Ormskirk, or when he left for the Maquis. He must have removed his things in a fit of rage then and just shoved it where it couldn't be seen. Everything was replaced, even his favourite books, including one he had forgotten - Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat. Chakotay had been excessively pleased when he saw his collection. The Rubaiyat was no longer on the shelf. She had discovered that only days after her birthday. Good thing that Hannah couldn't reach the shelf yet. She chewed everything and would have died had the child eaten her way through "Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night!". Still, their daughter listened with wide-eyed astonishment whenever Kathryn read to her from books that Tom's mother had given her, saying that they once belonged to Tom. Hannah's current favourite was 'Beauty and the Beast'. 

Kathryn was walking back from Starfleet Medical where Elizabeth Paris had given Hannah a thorough examination and declared the baby fit as a fiddle with no after-effects of her first journey into space and living in the comfort of her mother's quarters on board the Crimond. It had been a joy with Hannah on board with her, the crew falling over their feet taking turns to look after Hannah. But she had been harried more times than she cared to admit whenever Hannah became fractious. 

"Doctor, it seems her travel in deep space has made Hannah a little hyperactive. I've not had a good night's sleep since we've been away..." 

Elizabeth Paris had given Kathryn a withering look. 

"What do you think, Kathryn Janeway? This child's parents traverse all over the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants. Her father, if you don't mind my saying so, gallivants all over the Badlands doing who knows what. Of course Hannah has inherited her parents' wanderlust - " 

Kathryn laughed. 

"Doctor, you make it sound as if we're never going to put down roots anywhere!" 

"Make no mistake, Kathryn. This child - " Elizabeth continued for the next minute or so to coo all over Hannah who was happily obliging by laughing and kissing and squealing with delight when she was tickled by the doctor. "This child will be no exception. She'll want to travel the stars like her parents. Serves you right for putting starships and eagles on her mobile." 

Kathryn had to laugh at Elizabeth's directness. Hannah had clambered all over her and planted moist kisses on her cheeks, eyes, lips, even Kathryn's ears. 

"Da-da..." 

"Oh, dear..." 

"It's your Mommy, Hannah." 

"Da-da..." 

"I knew it!" Kathryn complained. "Hannah was going to say Daddy before she would say Mommy." 

"They're suckers for their fathers, didn't you know, Kathryn?" 

"I guess so," Kathryn replied. "According to my mother, I wouldn't give my father a moment's peace when he was home..." 

"Neither did Tom with his father," Elizabeth endorsed heartily. "Did you know I was jealous for a while when Tom was so small and wouldn't leave Owen alone? Followed his father everywhere. Tom - " Elizabeth's eyes became soft at some memory. "You know I would have skinned Tom alive that time for stowing away on his father's ship when he was only five." 

"He did that?" 

"Oh, yes. Owen found him crawling through the Jefferies tubes only after an extensive search proved a human body was responsible for tripping the shuttle bay doors. Tom had been in a shuttle trying to make a flight out, but he was too small to handle the controls. Then he went into hiding again... " Elizabeth paused for a few seconds again. "Tom flew his first shuttle when he was eight. Your little Hannah - " Elizabeth proceeded to tickle Hannah again as Kathryn held her. "Your Hannah will want to explore, Kathryn." Elizabeth's voice had taken on a somber tone, though her eyes shone with pride when she had spoken of Tom. 

"I look forward to that day, Doctor. But right now, I've got to settle this one for her afternoon nap. She looks likes she's ready to fight me every inch of the way. She did that on the Crimond!" 

"Good, you go ahead and get Hannah to sleep on a bright July afternoon when the sun is out, it's warm outside and you're going to coop the poor child up in your apartment - " 

"Doctor! A captain's got to rest!" 

"Well, good luck then. I hear you're losing the Crimond..." 

"Yes, it was my last mission with her. I've handed over the reins to Captain Winckler." 

"Any idea about your new vessel?" 

"All I know is that when I do go off in two weeks' time, I'll be engaged for combat. No transporting settlers. I don't know what I'm getting." Kathryn sighed. " Hannah will have to stay home this time, Doctor." 

"I understand. Will Dalene be looking after Hannah?" 

"Unfortunately not. She has her own little baby boy to care of and the girls as well. No, Mom's coming to get Hannah to take her to their new home." 

"I'm glad, Kathryn. They're very good for Hannah, but then, I don't need to tell you that." 

There was a slight pause in which Kathryn nodded. She knew that they had visited Tom in New Zealand in the hope that he wouldn't reject them as he had done every time they tried to see him. 

"How's Tom doing, Doctor?" 

"Much better than we hoped, Kathryn. There's much healing still going on, especially between Tom and Owen," Elizabeth said, her eyes soft again. "We visited him again, and he looked optimistic, though he still won't divulge much about the Maquis and Chakotay..." 

Kathryn had somehow known Tom wouldn't talk, and what he knew, the Federation knew anyway. Still, she felt proud of him. There was much goodness in Tom; now, with his relationship with Owen Paris improved, it gave Tom confidence to be open with his father. Boy, she'd have liked to have him as her pilot on any vessel. He spent so much time being angry, his worth was rarely appreciated. Chakotay had hated him in the beginning, but even he cut Tom some slack eventually. 

"Well," Kathryn replied, "I'm certain his application for parole will be viewed favourably." 

Elizabeth looked keenly at Kathryn. Kathryn tried to balance a bouncing Hannah against her bosom. 

"Owen hopes it will. He hasn't interfered, you know." 

"That's Admiral Paris, Doctor." 

Elizabeth sighed. 

"Yes, that's my husband for you. Tom will serve his time..." Meanwhile Hannah was screeching and banging her little fists against Kathryn's bosom. Kathryn laughed. 

"Well, Doctor, I have to see this little cupcake to her bed; hopefully she will comply when I order her to sleep!" 

Now as she walked leisurely towards her home, Kathryn had time to reflect. Her face became soft as she thought of Chakotay's unexpected but welcome visit to her. It had been wonderful to have him home, even for a few hours. He was so naturally a Daddy that her heart had ached seeing how father and daughter interacted and bonded. Hannah saw and experienced her father for the first time and it beat immeasurably looking at a holo-vid of Chakotay. Hannah had reveled in being with Chakotay that night. Kathryn wondered idly whether it was Chakotay's visit that brought about the change in Hannah. Hannah looked far more alive than before, though Kathryn was willing to concede it was just a natural part of her daughter growing. Hannah was by no means a big baby, but she was lively, alert, her eyes always seeming to study everything around her. In the lounge, Hannah's eyes always fixed on Chakotay's medicine wheel, and the sand paintings he made when he had been home from missions. 

Chakotay had been everything to her that night of her birthday. She had no idea that he left, but the watch had stopped at one minute past seven, and it had remained like that since his departure. She had been glad that he had waited till she and Hannah were sleeping. A smile formed as she thought that she could possibly have tried to convince him to stay. But he had work, and so had she. Kathryn gave a sigh. Her body tingled for weeks after that, but she had been glad. She could go forward knowing he was always somewhere; that he knew about Hannah's progress - that much she found out when he admitted the Admirals sent him regular updates on his wife and daughter - and that she had received from him enough sustenance to feed on for a while. He had been everything and more that night, and she had so despaired of ever seeing him again, especially for a day that had come to mean so much to both of them. In the hours before he arrived, her tears had soaked into the sheets; she had been unhappy and mostly, she had not looked forward to the day. 

She had been in high spirits the entire day just after she woke up and found his letter. Hannah had snuggled deeply into her arms seeking her warmth, basking in the love and presence of husband and father. Her mother had noticed the difference first, but made no comments like she usually did. Kathryn had been glad of that, but it also made her think that Gretchen Janeway was almost just as in the know about the Admirals' communications with Chakotay. Apparently, the idea had sprung from her and Kathryn wondered idly just how Gretchen had twisted Adam's arm. Then again, she knew that Owen Paris and Adam Ponsonby didn't need anyone telling them what to do, but it was a magnificent gesture on their part to get Chakotay in San Francisco without being detected. While she speculated on how they got it right, she had not pressured Chakotay on any details. Besides, they had other things to occupy themselves with when he arrived. Given a window of just six hours, they had to make full use of their time. 

Their lovemaking had taken up a large portion of that time, but Chakotay had been given the opportunity to bond with his daughter, to live with them for a short while and be Hannah's Daddy like she always dreamed he could be. Much of the time they talked too, the experience so cathartic that their time was mostly marked by burning tears. Seska was forever something of the past. Chakotay had seen to that and Sergei, bless him, had provided the final and damning proof that the Cardassians would do anything to get Chakotay. 

Chakotay had been worried about Winonah, and it was one of the few moments that he had retreated, his face creased with concern. All she could do then was assure him that she would help in his search. She had told him about Ken Dalby and that he had given her the co-ordinates of all the possible places they could investigate. Chakotay had been glad to hear that, and then declared he was going to have Dalby's head for going over his head. By then Chakotay's look had changed to pride in his crew; he knew that they cared so much about him and his own personal struggles. 

On the Crimond she had eliminated fifty of the possibilities of Winonah's whereabouts and there remained another fifty that she had to filter out. The next two weeks she was going to eliminate a few more, investigate all the remaining co-ordinates Kenneth Dalby had given her. It made her off-world visit to some of the homeworlds a necessity, and one included a little known planet in Sector 987. Kathryn shook her head. Not all Cardassians were in favour of their cause... 

By the time she reached the apartment, Kathryn had been so deep in thought that she hardly realised how quiet Hannah had become in her stroller. The baby was fast asleep and Kathryn gave a sigh of relief. She would have an afternoon free, hopefully, of Hannah's insistent baby chatter. She could say "Da-da", and while Kathryn had been slightly miffed that Hannah didn't say "Mommy" first, she was excited as any mother would be that her baby was starting to mouth her first words rather early on. 

Inside the house Kathryn made Hannah comfortable. Hannah had woken briefly, eaten her cereal and then promptly fell asleep again. She lay Hannah gently down in the crib and tip-toed out of the nursery, smiling to herself when she did so. She had been tip-toeing around the house since she returned from her two month mission. In the small alcove where their communications centre was housed, she sat down at the vid-com and entered a few codes, studying the information carefully. 

Kodari was an M-class planet, the smallest in the Kandor Star System, and one of thirteen planets of that system. It was little known, since there was little sustainability. Kathryn ruled out the possibility of the Cardassian Union introducing terraforming on a desert-like world. She gave a shrug. Cardassians used only what suited them, so why did Chakotay and Kenneth Dalby pin-point this planet as a possibility in the search for Winonah? Granted, it wasn't anywhere along the Demilitarised Zone or within the Cardassian borders of control. In fact, it was almost on the perimeter of the Delta Quadrant and a hazardous journey there since those sectors were populated by hostile worlds. It was what they in the Federation called 'no-man's land'. There were not supposed to be settlers there. One thing Dalby also furnished her with was the crew complement of the Vetar, the vessel of Gul Evek whose crew were down on the planet during the massacre of the people of Dorvan V. It was an outside possibility, but something worth investigating. There had been other Cardassian vessels, but the Vetar struck a note of disquiet in her, and indeed, with Chakotay and Dalby. 

"Well," she murmured to herself, "somehow I've got to get to know more about the crew of the Vetar. Someone took Winonah. Someone..." 

**** 

The Fleet Yards of Utopia Planitia in orbit around Mars were massive. Kathryn had been here only once before, in her Academy days when their third year class had to make the journey here and study ships' and engineering designs and to bring them up to speed on the latest developments in shipbuilding. Now, looking around her, it seemed to her as impressive as ever. Considering they built the Federation's starships at Utopia Planitia it had to be larger than life. Constitution, Federation and Galaxy class vessels were built here, and it seemed to her the Federation, other than the smaller roundabouts and shuttles and flitters it built, operated on the 'bigger is better' principle in ship building. 

She had to leave Hannah with her mother. Gretchen Janeway had just moved into their new home, leaving only a housekeeper and gardener at Indiana to look after the farm. It was a temporary move for Gretchen, who wanted to get 'the feel' of the new house. Hannah had not demurred going to her grandmother. She had hugged Gretchen in one of her baby strong hugs and kissed her grandmother with dribbling lips. Adam Ponsonby couldn't stay long with Gretchen as he had to accompany Kathryn on her short trip to Utopia Planitia. 

Now, she cast a sideways glance at her stepfather and Admirals Paris and Lewis. The men looked like three school boys ready to tackle something dangerous and clandestine. There was a tenseness about them that made her almost want to laugh. She had always known that Adam Ponsonby and Owen Paris were lifelong friends and even in their work, they were always on the same projects. They headed the Strategy and Planning Division and in the war effort that work had become as covert as what Chakotay was doing. Not that showing her the new vessel was anything but clandestine, since by now everyone in the know knew about it. That she was being given command of a freshly built vessel was never, since both men were too rigid in their approach to their work by appointing the best possible person for the task, an issue of nepotism. Because she knew both men very well, she felt extremely honoured to be entrusted with the USS Voyager, and because of that, she knew that she had tasks that would be a little different. No doubt, once she boarded the vessel and took it on its maiden voyage, she would be apprised of her mission, whatever that was. 

The USS Crimond was already on its way to a distant sector taking settlers to a new homeworld. Captain Winckler had accepted his new commission with grace, saying that he followed the footsteps of two great captains who commanded the vessel before him. Most of the Crimond's crew stayed on, but she knew that Magnus Rollins, Joe Carey and Eamon Daley had been removed from duty and were awaiting new orders. Kathryn sighed. It was a pity that she lost a fine crew that served with her on the Crimond. 

Owen Paris caught her look; he winked at her and she grinned. It was all so secretive. 

Two days ago she had been summoned to his office and wondered idly whether he and Adam Ponsonby were joined at the hip, since Adam was also present when she arrived. Both men had greeted affably, enquired after Hannah and said that Chakotay was fine. Her heart thundered naturally when Chakotay's name was mentioned, for she knew now that they sent Chakotay regular updates on Hannah's progress and news about his wife and daughter. 

"I take it there's something important you're going to inform me of," she stated after she seated herself opposite him in his office. 

Owen Paris had laced his fingers where they rested on the desk top and he stared piercingly at her. Then he looked at Adam, who nodded to him. Kathryn frowned. 

"Kathryn, we have something to show you. It's something Tom had been working on and Leah Brahms improved - " 

"Tom?" 

"Yes, on my first visit to New Zealand, he had given me the codes to his vid-com at Palings and told me there was something he had done a while ago, that might be of interest to us." 

Her interest was immediately piqued. Tom was working on something they thought to keep under wraps? She was still wondering what it could be when Owen Paris rose from his chair and proceeded to the wide paneled console against the wall to his left. She got up too, followed by Adam. A few touches of the panel later and the specs of a starship came into view. Kathryn gasped. Did Tom Paris design that vessel? came her thought. 

"The USS Voyager, Intrepid Class," Owen Paris's voice droned on. 

"She's very sleek," she replied, still awed a little. It was a small vessel, much smaller than she imagined Utopia Planitia built, if she discounted the USS Defiant stationed at Deep Space Nine. 

"This was Tom's brainchild, Kathryn. At least some aspects of it were, like the navigational array, shuttle pods, ideas for its warp core and circuitry. Apparently Tom had submitted the design for the primary and secondary hulls a few years ago and since they hadn't responded, he thought they weren't interested." Owen Paris gave a deep sigh. "Meanwhile, they were in fact very interested and had started on the project a year ago. Tom had been out of Starfleet then and I - " Owen paused again. "I didn't know he had done this. He'll receive acknowledgement for his work, by the way. By the time I submitted the latest ideas of Tom's, they were already nearing completion of the new vessel. You've not seen Starfleet Command fall over themselves to get this baby off the ground, so to speak, in as quick a time as possible." 

"She's beautiful," Kathryn exclaimed softly. 

"Yes, she is, Kathryn," Adam Ponsonby responded. 

"Tom's very good, isn't he?" 

Owen Paris just beamed, his eyes shining. 

"We'll be going to the Fleet Yards the day after tomorrow," he said as he switched off the monitor, leaving the screens blank. Kathryn was still staring, her heart pumping wildly. Were they going to give her this vessel? she thought with amazement. Then, another thought struck her, and she sucked in her breath softly. 

"You took me off the Crimond deliberately," she said to both men as all were seated again. She tried to look angry at them, but failed, the prospect of taking a new vessel on a maiden voyage too thrilling. Way too thrilling. A smile had formed as she said the words and again, the two men gave one another meaningful looks. 

"We'll tell you this, Kathryn: the USS Voyager is a science vessel - " 

"A science vessel?" 

"You'll be in your element, Captain." Admiral Paris had smiled and Adam Ponsonby joined in by declaring: 

"There is much to recommend you, Kathryn. You're the best person for the job." 

She hadn't wanted to ask then whether he meant the job as Captain or whatever mission they were to send her on. What she was certain about, was that it was war and any vessel under her command would be engaged for combat. The war with the Cardassians had intensified with the Dominion as their allies. The Federation was having a hard time containing the combined threat and lately relied heavily on the Maquis - though no one was prepared to admit to that, least of all Admirals Hays and Nechayev - to sabotage key weapons installations. The biggest strike had been destroying the entire armaments factories on Dezod and even that information was supplied them by Chakotay. She had learned only when Chakotay visited her on her birthday, that he and Dalby had been responsible for the covert work done on that. Kathryn shrugged heavily. Chakotay really was not getting any credit for that major offensive. 

Adam Ponsonby had sounded as usual very Darcy-ish, although his eyes had a warm regard for her. He had been forced by their mother to ask her and Phoebe for their mother's hand in marriage and it had been a tense, mostly embarrassing moment for him when he addressed her and Phoebe. Hannah had been a month old then and Kathryn was still breastfeeding her baby. Adam had stumbled and bumbled through his words and Gretchen Janeway enjoyed his momentary discomfiture. Still, she thought it was rather touching of her mother that she felt she needed her daughters' blessing when marrying Starfleet's oldest bachelor. 

"But he's by no means over the hill, you hear?" She and Phoebe had laughed, feeling slightly bruised at their mother's forthrightness. Poor Adam Ponsonby had blushed all over again. She had placed Hannah in her mother's arms and stepped into the Admiral's embrace, assuring him of their joy that their mother was to be taken off their hands at last. She loved the old man, as much as she admired Owen Paris. 

Now, they neared the offices of the staff of Utopia Planitia. 

"We'll be meeting with Leah Brahms," Owen Paris told her conversationally. 

"Leah Brahms, designer of the Enterprise's engines?" 

"The same one. Because of Tom's specifications, she's come up with some revolutionary engineering innovations based on his ship designs." 

"Tom's been designing smaller shuttles too, hasn't he?" Kathryn asked. 

"Oh, yes. Since his Academy days, Kathryn. Only then - " Owen Paris paused, causing both Kathryn and Adam Ponsonby to look at him expectantly. He gave a little sigh and continued, "only then we never got along and I never really acknowledged his worth. All I saw was - " 

"A rebellious youngster who fought you all the way..." 

"Yes. He had designed two of the shuttles for Voyager," Owen offered, a note of pride in his voice. "Curious...he named one of the shuttles the Delta Flyer..." 

"The Delta Flyer..." Kathryn repeated reflectively. 

"Well, in a few minutes we'll be there," Adam said. He was walking faster and Kathryn had a hard time keeping abreast of the taller men. 

When they reached the complex housing the offices, Owen led them to Leah Brahms's suite. She was waiting for them outside her door. Leah Brahms, Kathryn noted instantly, was an attractive woman with dark brown hair, and a very friendly and warm smile. 

"Well, gentlemen, Captain Janeway, you're right on time," she said. "Could we proceed immediately?" 

Just outside the office complex was a small shuttle launching pad which surprised Kathryn as they missed it completely on their way to Leah's office. Leah she thought, could have shown them the specs of Voyager right there in her office so Kathryn gathered that Leah probably wanted to show them the vessel itself. Since Kathryn was to take her on its maiden Voyager to Deep Space Nine, it made sense to be shown her vessel. 

A short journey to one of the massive docking ports and they were within view of the USS Voyager. Kathryn, sitting next to Adam Ponsonby, gasped softly as Voyager came slowly into view. 

All she heard was Leah Brahms's voice. 

"She carries a maximum crew of one hundred and forty one. Weighing 700 000 metric tons, Voyager has a maximum sustainable cruising velocity of warp factor 9.975. Fifteen decks... The ship features improved computer systems, optical processors have been replaced by bio-neural circuitry and equipped with isolinear optical circuits. 

"Bio-neural circuitry..." Kathryn murmured. 

"Yes, the idea was given me by Tom Paris," Leah replied, turning to look at Kathryn. She smiled. "There's one young man I'd like to have on my staff..." 

Five hours later they were on their way to Earth, a slightly bemused Kathryn sitting in the shuttle next to Adam Ponsonby while Owen Paris piloted. She was stunned beyond words and remained quiet on the journey back to San Francisco. She has been given a brand new vessel, small and very sleek with a spoon-shaped primary hull. Owen Paris had mentioned while they were sitting on the bridge of Voyager, that Voyager was the fastest vessel in the fleet, and designed for maneuverability. 

"This vessel will cleave any plasma storm in the Badlands..." 

He knew she would react to that statement as she turned quickly to face him. She had gone alternately hot and cold. She was beginning to get an idea of her mission. Voyager would go where no Federation vessel could dare to go. A sudden thrill coursed through her at the prospect of commanding Voyager. The first impressions of the ship, stark, aloof and beautiful captured her imagination. All her instincts clamoured simultaneously that she was home at last in a vessel that was built practically for her. When she sat in the command chair, something happened to her like it had never happened on any of the other vessels she had served since her ensign days. The ship embraced her, cloaked her in bio-neural circuits and a super warp core, bulkheads that seemed to breathe and a main viewscreen that beckoned her...beckoned her... She had never before felt such a distinct air of ownership in a vessel than she had when she sat in that chair and cast her eyes to the other chair. A flash, and she imagined Chakotay sitting there next to her, smiling his dimpled smile, and enfolding her in their aura of affection. 

By the time she was home, she was tired but enervated at the same time. A quick mug of coffee and a change of clothes later, she was sitting in Chakotay's chair, staring out at the view of the Bay. She imagined she could see the eagles and hear the cry of the gulls, and imagined seeing Voyager high against the skyline as she made her way to the Badlands. 

"They mean for me to help you, Chakotay..." she said reflectively. 

*** 

The next morning she was summoned to Admiral Paris's office. It wasn't a long distance from their apartment to Headquarters and most times she simply took a flitter that was always about to get to the offices of Admirals Paris, Ponsonby and Lewis. She decided a brisk walk would do her good to get rid of old cobwebs and ponder on the events of the last few days. Things had taken an amazing turn, she thought, but then, it was Starfleet. It was adapt or bust. She preferred to adapt. That meant taking command of Starfleet's newest and fastest Intrepid class vessel; it meant going away on very short notice. It meant leaving on a mission again without Hannah. With hindsight, Kathryn was only now understanding how difficult it must have been for her father to be home on important days for them, when he had to be on a mission, or sent on short notice somewhere. Poor Hannah was already becoming accustomed to being without her Mommy for long stretches, and her father? Kathryn gave a long sigh. 

Hannah was still with her mother and a quick communication with Gretchen and Hannah had to be enough to sustain her for the rest of the day. Hannah had been beaming as she reached with both hands for the screen. Still, she didn't cry, being totally happy and comfortable with her grandmother. 

Kathryn hadn't been harassed again by Admiral Nechayev though she suspected the Admiral knew something of a communication between Kathryn and Chakotay. Kathryn smiled inwardly. Dalene had visited her that day and had given her a sly look, asking whether Chakotay had dropped out of nowhere to put the beatific and well-fed smile on her face. 

"And what a smile, Kate. You were really hungry." 

"Day!" 

"Oh yes, you look definitely like a well tended cat." Kathryn had long ago given up on the direct manner in which Dalene went to the heart of the matter, even if it were something personal like Chakotay arriving and making love with her all night. She knew she must have turned red, so warm her face felt. 

"Oh dear. Am I that transparent?" 

"Only to those close to you, sweetie. But Kate, you look wonderful, you hear me? It was good of Chakotay to be with you." 

Kathryn had stared open-mouthed at Dalene Buchholtz. Dalene had the kind of colossal nerve that Kathryn forgave in her friend. She didn't want to know how Dalene knew Chakotay had only a few precious hours with her, but Dalene looked like she gave her blessing. Kathryn's heart had soared with happiness; the entire day she did feel like she was walking on a cloud. 

"He was wonderful, Dalene, and Hannah thrived in his presence, you know..." 

"Then I'm glad, Kathryn. I'm happy for you. You deserve to have your husband by your side." 

Kathryn gave a deep, contended sigh as she thought of Dalene's words. There was not a close friend or member of her family who empathised with her situation. Chakotay was gone, and according to many, a coward and traitor to the Federation and Federation ideals. She understood his drive and so did those closest to them. Sergei was still a major force in their circle of friends, and the one Chakotay sent the evidence of Seska's real identity to. Kathryn had seen those results and even now, walking along the tree-lined walkway, it gave her a cold shiver thinking to what lengths Sedeka had gone to neutralise Chakotay. The part of the report from Sergei that disturbed her more than anything was that Seska had even planned to be raped by her own men in order to make her appearance on the Liberty more realistic. Kathryn sighed and tried to push thoughts of Seska away from her. That part of her life was over and even in the present circumstances, with Chakotay away from her, they enjoyed a healthy relationship and marriage, with the bonds now even stronger than ever. 

Mark Johnson was always concerned at how she was holding up. Because she knew Mark so well, she knew he would never intrude or usurp Chakotay's position in her heart. For that she admired him tremendously. She knew he still held a caring regard for her, but lately she had seen him in the company of a young Bajoran doctor he met while on one of his interminable talks. Mark thought Hannah was too adorable for words, but Mark never came so close that Hannah would look on him as replacement or father in her life. He did shower her with presents though, and Kathryn would accept them good-naturedly on Hannah's behalf. Hannah was currently immersed in two things only: Ceara, their Irish setter, and the toy targ B'Elanna Torres had given as a present for Hannah. It seemed Hannah practiced sharpening her teeth on the targ's ears. 

Kathryn had to leave in two weeks' time. The thought was thrilling, though it saddened her that she had to leave Hannah in her mother's care. 

When Kathryn entered Owen's office, she was not surprised to see Admiral Lewis and Ponsonby there as well. Lately, she had come to think of them as the Starfleet Triumvirate. She greeted them, and then took the seat indicated by them. Admiral Paris leaned with his elbows on the desk, his fingers laced. Though she wanted to smile, she felt tense. 

"Captain, we've called you here for crew recommendations..." 

Kathryn gave a little sigh of relief. It wasn't something bad after all, though she knew whatever it was, she would be able to handle it. 

"Most of the crew have already been appointed, Captain," Ponsonby's voice droned, "but the key positions have yet to be filled." 

"And?" she couldn't help asking. 

"We're giving you carte blanche on selecting your Chief Engineer, Chief of Security, Operations Officer, Chief Helm, Ship's Doctor and - " 

"First Officer..." Kathryn said softly, her voice awed. It had never happened. Most of the time they had no choice but to get along with the officer commissioned by Starfleet Command. She had been a good First Officer to Andreas Buccholtz, and she has had only one first officer herself. If she could really, really choose, she would have wanted Chakotay to be her first officer... Still, and when the thought struck her, she sat up straight suddenly, looking piercingly at Adam Ponsonby, then Admiral Lewis. "I can select my own team?" 

"We've just said that, Captain," Owen Paris remarked dryly. 

"Tell me," she began, finding her voice and strength, "was that why Magnus Rollins, Eamon Daley, Joe Carey and Doctor Berzin were relieved of duty until further notice?" 

"She's catching on fast, Adam - " 

"I'm not a ch - " she began when Owen lifted a hand to still her. 

"Don't worry, Captain. They don't know why they were brought back to San Francisco to await orders here." 

Kathryn had wondered why they didn't remain on the Crimond, thinking that perhaps they didn't like the style of command of Jerold Winckler. 

"Then I don't need a doctor, gentlemen," she said deliberately. She had been in the sick bay of Voyager at Utopia Planitia and had activated the Emergency Medical Hologram who promptly wanted her to state the nature of the medical emergency. Besides wanting to wipe the carpet with his arrogant face, she had been thrilled beyond measure with the medical supplement. Voyager was the first vessel to be fitted, so to speak, with an EMH. A hologram programmed with the life work and foibles of 2000 doctors gave the nameless EMH a swollen head, she was sure, seeing the way he smirked, got irritated and then stood still, waiting for her to deactivate him. Now she looked at the Admirals and thought she could get her own back at them. 

"You may use the EMH only in emergencies. You're aware of that, Captain." Admiral Lewis was stern, but his eyes were smiling. 

"It's a brilliant innovation, Admiral. I've already seen he has a mind of his own and in the space of the few minutes he had been activated, already adapted and assimilated new impressions. The EMH is sentient, gentlemen. It would be a shame not to use him." 

"You have to take a doctor, Kathryn." 

"Then Sergei Karkoff it will be, Admiral Paris," she conceded. "Make him lose his day job, do whatever, but I want him on Voyager." 

She was suddenly uncompromising, her eyes narrowing, daring them to go against her decision. Ponsonby sighed and Paris and Lewis sighed in sympathy with him. 

"Who else?" 

"Well, since you've decommissioned my senior officers in a manner of speaking, I'd like to have them on my ship, Admiral Paris." 

They had the grace to look slightly abashed. They knew she'd have them on Voyager in a minute. She was looking forward to having Eamon Daley as her First Officer and Joe Carey as her Chief Engineer, with Magnus Rollins Chief of Tactical and Security. The other senior staff remained undecided. 

"Here's a list of applications for Operations, Captain," Admiral Paris said, holding the PADD out to her. 

Kathryn studied it briefly, then rose from her chair. 

"I'll look this over at home, Admirals. I need time. These are all newly graduated cadets from the Academy." 

"They're the best, Captain." 

"I know." 

*** 

Two weeks later... 

Kathryn disembarked from the Cochrane, one of Voyager's shuttles and made her away across the spacious, well tended lawns of the Rehabilitation Facility in New Zealand. She had made the preliminary arrangements and applications to visit one inmate. Her heart beat faster. She hadn't told anyone what her position would be in selecting a pilot for Voyager. Lieutenant Stadi was very good, but Kathryn needed a creative man who could maneuver the vessel through the narrowest of passages. While she liked Stadi, the Betazed pilot was too rigid, relaxed little and the last two weeks, while bringing Voyager to Deep Space Nine, Kathryn realised why it would be necessary to relief Stadi in critical situations. Kathryn had little time for consideration of feelings in this regard, knowing that only the best could bring Voyager into the Badlands and out of it. 

Stadi was not that person. 

With hindsight, she realised why the Admirals had not wanted to push her right there in the office of Owen Paris into making the decision she had made instantly but didn't divulge. Owen Paris was the last person in the universe to be accused of favouritism and nepotism. She got the job of commanding Voyager because she believed she was the best person for the job in the present circumstances. They would not have selected anyone else if they thought another serving Captain was better, and that included the enlightened Jean-Luc Picard. 

Likewise, the same with the appointment of a pilot for Voyager. Owen Paris could have pushed on his son's behalf. She could have adopted the attitude: the ex-Maquis is in jail; he was already cashiered out of Starfleet, so what recommendations did he have? Owen Paris remained silent, and left it to her to make a choice. She hadn't informed him yet that she had made a decision, thinking that Tom himself could do the honours of informing his father. 

But first, she had to barter for his freedom. 

*** 

Kathryn stared into the bluest pair of eyes she had seen on any person. He was at least ten years her junior, and it probably accounted for the reason she had not seen him often. Their last communication had been more than a year ago, and that through a subspace message. It was never the same as the real thing. Her own communications with Chakotay in their courting period while on two different vessels was enough evidence. It was infinitely better seeing the real person. 

"Tom Paris?" 

When he rose to his full height, she was glad that she was standing on a little rise so that she appeared taller than he was. He looked at her with those piercing aquamarine-blue eyes. He had been welding, leaving his task temporarily to walk up to her. Tom looked speculatively at her. 

"I'm Kathryn Janeway." 

"Yeah, I know. Chakotay's wife." 

"That too," she said with a half-smile. "I served with your father on the Al-Batani." 

"Then you must be good," Tom shot back at her. He was quiet a second, then asked, "To what do I have this honour of being visited by a Starfleet Captain?" 

She felt like smacking the smirk off his face. Still, she kept her cool. All Federation vessels had received intelligence that the Maquis could assist in the war effort. The Federation needed their expertise in guerilla warfare. At the Battle of Endyor in sector 2135, seven Federation vessels had been destroyed, with only a handful of crew managing to escape in shuttles and escape pods. Chakotay had given them the specifications of the Vetar and other similar Cardassian warships, pointing out the ships' weaknesses that they could target with their photon torpedoes. The phaser banks of the Cardassian war ships were machines of destruction and if they could disable as many vessels, the war could be over sooner. She hoped and prayed fervently that it would be so. Tom Paris continued to study her and when she spoke, she stood hands on her hips, ready to do battle with him. If she could take the wind out of his sails... 

"I have a job for you." 

"I'm already doing a job...for the Federation..." 

"This one's better, Tom." Tom looked at her speculatively. It didn't surprise her when the look turned to curiosity, to interest. The wheels were turning in his head. "It means you'll be out of here, and upon review at the end of the mission, you're a free man." 

There was a long pause. 

"Okay, I'm buying. What is this...job you have for me?" 

"Five Cardassian vessels are making their way to the Badlands," she started. "The Liberty will be trapped in a matter of weeks. I need the best pilot in the Federation to man the conn of the USS Voyager. You know Voyager. Your specifications have been used, Tom, all of them. There's no better pilot than yourself to take Voyager into the Badlands." 

"They used my ideas?" 

"You have been credited, Tom." 

"She's a beauty. But...why, Captain?" 

Kathryn gave a deep sigh as she faced Tom. Her hands were shaking slightly. Only the previous day she had received intelligence of the enormity of her task. They would be alone fighting off five Cardassian war ships. 

"This is a rescue mission, Tom," she said quietly, her tone very serious. "We must get Chakotay and his crew out of there before the Cardassians get him." 

She was gratified when Tom paled at her words. 

"Captain?" 

"It's an order, Tom Paris." 

"Well then, let's get to it, Captain." 

**** 

END CHAPTER THIRTY TWO


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the end of BOOK FOUR: MAQUIS

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY THREE**

**August 2371 - On route to the Badlands**

On the bridge of USS Voyager Kathryn felt a constant twinge of unease as the vessel cleaved the black night on her way to the Badlands. Another week and they'd be on the perimeter of a sector of space that no starship had entered before. Massive plasma turbulences had kept out many a starship giving chase to rebel Maquis vessels. It was the perfect hiding place, Kathryn thought, as she looked at Lieutenant Stadi at the conning station. Tom Paris had briefly erupted at not manning the helm himself as they left Deep Space Nine, but she managed to calm the irate young Lieutenant to whom she had given a field commission for the duration of the mission into the Badlands. Tom had given her an aggrieved look, then declared he'd spend some time in the holodeck introducing Harry to Sandrine.

Tom and Ensign Harry Kim had looked almost immediately as if they were joined at the hip; Kathryn stifled a grin as she thought how stiff and prim and proper Harry appeared in her ready room. He had been so deferential, repeatedly calling her 'sir' that she'd had to stop him before he prostrated himself.

In a way Harry had brought her and Chakotay together, the young man having been the soloist at that fateful Command Performance for the President of the Federation where she had fallen instantly in love with Chakotay. Kathryn gave a little sigh. Harry had forgotten his clarinet at home, and he had been quite sad about it. Tom Paris, on the other hand, presented none of the diffidence Harry had shown when he addressed her standing calmly at ease in front of her.

Tom's entry on the bridge on the first day had been a little strained when she introduced him to Eamon Daley, whose sister was one of the young officers killed at Caldik Prime. Eamon, unlike his brother, accepted Tom's handshake with grace and he had given a huge sigh of relief that the awkward moment was over. Still, word had spread and many on the ship still held a little antipathy towards Tom. It was in his eyes when she'd called him to the ready room only the previous day to discuss their planned route with him. He looked like he hadn't slept much.

"You're getting enough sleep, Tom?" she asked.

"No less than most senior officers, Captain," he replied.

"Something else troubling you?"

"I'm fitting in," he said tersely, and she nodded, satisfied with his response. It more than convinced her he was having a hard time, but was dealing with it. Then he had looked at her again with those piercing blue eyes. "It doesn't get any easier, does it, Captain?"

"What do you mean, Tom?"

"Shaking off...bad things. I dream, you know."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Tom."

"On Chakotay's vessel..." Tom started, changing the subject, "he is a good man, Captain. He helped B'Elanna through her nightmares... He saved B'Elanna's life."

"B'Elanna?" she asked, already knowing the truth, but wanting Tom to talk.

"Yes, she - " he paused and a smiled crept to his mouth. "She used to call me a pig..."

"Really?"

"Said she couldn't stand me. We fought often, but she became my friend...sorta. I - I'd like to see her safe, Captain."  She had raised an eyebrow and he grinned. "With all the others, of course."

"Of course."

"Anyway, he saved B'Elanna's life. Dalby knew of her and recommended her when Chakotay was looking for an engineer. Captain, that woman's a miracle worker. She'll take Voyager's engines apart and then rebuild them and completely revolutionise them. She uses her spanner like a weapon."

"And you must have ducked a couple of times."

"I did! I don't know what happened when he went to rendezvous with B'Elanna but - " Tom had given a little sigh. "Chakotay killed the five Cardassians who attacked her, in cold blood, Captain...in cold blood. B'Elanna hero-worships him. No one can say anything wrong about him." Kathryn had given a little smile as she remembered her Chakotay being exactly like that, so protective... "Chakotay didn't like me much to begin with. I didn't have much of a cause. I sold my services, Captain. I was very sorry about that. In the end, it didn't matter anymore..."

"I understand, Tom. You gave Dalby and Mariah Henley the opportunity to get away safely."

There was a sudden, fierce pride in Tom's eyes when she mentioned his selfless act. Tom allowed himself to get caught in order to let his two comrades get away. It counted for something in Chakotay's eyes.

"It was the one time I felt I did something good, you know. Dalby is Chakotay's right hand man. There would have been no one to replace him. Chakotay shared many confidences with him and - and ..."

"What, Tom?" She was suddenly interested, though she sensed what Tom was going to say.

"They were doing covert work no one on the Liberty knew of, Captain. I guess you must be aware of that.

She had given a sigh.

"If he falls into the Cardassians' hands, Tom..."

There was a long silence after which she quietly and firmly dismissed Tom, watching reflectively as he exited the ready room. Tom's eyes had an unfamiliar glint in them when he had mentioned B'Elanna Torres's name. She surmised her helmsman must have some feelings for the intrepid engineer. They fought often as Tom said, but every time he spoke of her, even when he said she disliked him and called him a pig, there was a little softness in his regard.

Admiral Paris had not shown much surprise when she communicated to him her choice of helmsman after she had given Tom the directive to tell Owen Paris himself. She knew the older man had hoped she'd select Tom, but he hadn't wanted to throw his weight behind her decision. She had been glad since Tom was the very best man for the job. He piloted Voyager in the last week and she knew that he had been doing additional work in the holodecks, preparing the vessel for the extreme plasma storms. He had been shaken on one occasion when he told her flatly that it would be like sending Voyager through the eye of a needle, so narrow were some apertures that they had to get through.

"But don't worry, Captain. I can do it," he said confidently.

She had nodded gravely, too aware then of the enormity of her task. Five Cardassian vessels were on their way to the same hot spot the Liberty appeared to have been trapped in.

Kathryn gave a deep sigh but smiled nonetheless when Eamon Daley, her first officer, gave her a concerned look. She was gratified when he sat back again in his chair. She was deeply concerned about the fate of Chakotay and his crew. Several Federation starships, headed by the USS Enterprise and the USS Defiant, had destroyed another armaments build-up on an obscure planet where no one had thought to look. Again, that had been information supplied by Chakotay and Kenneth Dalby, and surely, their lives were at risk should the Cardassians get them first. One by one, Cardassian vessels came under attack by the Federation, their phaser banks and secondary command processors targeted exactly where Chakotay had pointed out those vulnerabilities of Cardassian war ships. Still, five vessels had managed to evade the net of Federation maneuvers and for Chakotay and the Liberty, it meant certain death.

Starfleet Command had received intelligence only days before they left Deep Space Nine. Chakotay himself had sent a communication that he needed back-up desperately as they were being followed to the Badlands. Because the Liberty was small, she could outmaneuver the larger war ships and so had managed to keep one step ahead of the enemy. But they were closing in and Voyager was still three days behind. For certain periods each day, she had maintained maximum cruise velocity, which was degrees faster than any other ship in Federation space.’

She gave another sigh. They had to get Chakotay out...they had to... If she failed...

"Captain, we're approaching sector 455," Eamon Daley's voice broke into her reverie. Kathryn gave herself a mental shake, looked at Eamon and nodded her thanks. Then she rose from her chair, and stood on the level of the conning station. She hit her combadge.

"Janeway to Paris."

"Paris here, Captain," came Tom's instant reply.

"You're needed on the bridge."

"I'm on my way. Paris out."

Inside her, the butterflies refused to calm down. She felt wound up and her insides were fluttering at the same time. She berated herself silently for feeling like that, reminding herself that she was a Starfleet officer, trained for combat to take risks in all situations. Hannah and Gretchen and Phoebe and everyone close to her suddenly seemed so far away now. She knew that, for a few precious days, she had to push them to the back of her mind, bury them in her conscious because she needed to concentrate fully on her mission. This was not a benign visit to a homeworld where they were to resettle a few colonists, or transport some dignitaries to an important conference in the outer reaches of Federation Space. It didn't compare to that visit they'd made to Bajor while she was still serving as first officer of the Crimond. Very soon they'd be approaching the Badlands, where the lives of her crew and those of the Liberty depended on their expertise to effect a successful rescue mission. Only one of the guls was known to her, albeit by reputation -Gul Evek, with his ship, the Vetar, was heading the chase. She knew Evek hated Chakotay...

Kathryn breathed a little sigh of relief when Tom Paris entered the bridge.

**

Tom Paris glanced quickly at Captain Janeway and Commander Eamon Daley greeting them before he stepped down to the conn level. Andra Stadi rose immediately from the chair as Tom stood next to her. He smiled at her, relieved that she had taken his commission and job as Chief Helm in good spirit. It helped that she did, since he knew that another excellent pilot would have balked and only conceded his place on the Captain's orders. But he had met Stadi back during their Academy days when he had been a senior cadet and she in her third year. She'd had a reputation already for excellent flying from her first year, but he knew that given certain tricky situations, she was rational enough to acknowledge that she had limitations. It was fine during peace time when all they did was pilot a starship from one planet to another, even landing one on occasion. His own experience extended beyond Stadi's. Where he found a vessel had limitations, he was always wanting to improve it; from his earliest years, he designed vessels of all types for the specifications and needs and cruising velocity he felt the situation warranted. One day, he swore, he would design a vessel that would cruise at warp 10...

Stadi was a very capable pilot; she could handle with ease flying between the stars in benign space. The Badlands was a different kettle of fish. He knew the Badlands; the Limpet, the Liberty's only shuttle, had been like a little marble tossed around by those storms.

He had studied every maneuver devised by Picard, by John Redbay, one time brilliant pilot of the Enterprise, and by Chakotay. It was real pity too about Nick Locarno who was one of the most inventive and creative pilots around and who, like Tom, had been cashiered out of Starfleet. Those were pilots and strategists whose work he studied constantly as he continued to hone his skills at the conn.

Tom sighed. It helped, naturally, that he'd designed Voyager's primary and secondary hulls, as well as her navigational array and suggested its bio-neural circuitry to Leah Brahms. In the beginning Starfleet thought his work too revolutionary, too much like the fantasies of a cocky upstart. Even his father hadn't believed him. Now, Owen Paris appeared more amenable, not so distant and unapproachable as Tom had always imagined him to be. The old man's eyes had been filled with tears when Tom agreed to see them in New Zealand. He had been afraid, but he realised as Owen Paris stood in front of him, that his father had been just as afraid. That had rocked him a bit. His father had always been  invincible, never afraid, yet he stood there, afraid to speak to his son.

It was Tom himself who had made the first move.

"I'm glad you came, Dad..."

"Tom..."

His mother had stood back a little, waiting in silence while Owen Paris stepped forward and extended a hesitant hand to Tom. Tom had taken the hand and pulled his father into his embrace, but it hadn't been necessary, as his father had grabbed him spontaneously after that and kept saying, "my son...my son..."

It had been a wrenching time. He couldn't remember when his father had last touched him, let alone hugged him. It had been then that he told Owen Paris about his research and designs, and his submissions three years ago to Utopia Planitia of specs for a ship like Voyager

Tom looked at the panels in front of him and for a moment his heart swelled with pride. This was his vessel too; he felt connected to it and the conn responded to him very differently than it did to Andra Stadi and Lieutenant James Hamilton. It was as if Voyager breathed and listened to him, doing his bidding as he put her through her paces. He was the only pilot so far on Voyager who could maintain warp 9.975 for protracted periods and he sensed that Captain Janeway was pleased with his performance. He never deliberately set out to please her, but he knew his worth and was confident of his ability. No more did Siobhan Daley stare at him in his sleep. He was sorry that she'd died, real deep down gut-wrenching sorry. But, he sighed, it was done, he'd been punished and served his time. This time he was going to make good; every time he piloted Voyager or one of her shuttles, he thought of Siobhan whose brother sat behind him in the Commander's chair.

For you, Siobhan, because you deserved to live.

For you, B'Elanna, because you deserve to live...

The main viewscreen was active and by his calculations he knew that they would reach the perimeter of the Badlands in five hours. They'd been going at high warp and cut their projected time of arrival by almost fifty percent. If anyone ever needed proof about Voyager's cruise velocity at sustained high warp, his official logs would provide it.  Already, in the distance, he could see the pinkish-orange billows of cloud dust. He knew the Cardassian vessels were already inside the Badlands, since they couldn't pick up any Cardassian signals because of the ion disturbances. Harry had his work cut out and the kid had been brilliant when, half an hour ago, he informed the Captain that the Liberty had been traced somewhere near a planet called Alkorea, situated in the heart of the Badlands. Most of the worlds the Maquis used as bases or refugee camps were on the other side outside the plasma storms and displacement waves that seemed to have intensified when he had last been in this region, as a free man.

"We're closing in, Captain."

"Good, Mr Paris. Maintain course."

"Captain," Magnus Rollins started, "I've notified the USS Ohio, Serengeti and Saratoga to be on stand-by. They will arrive in seven hours, Captain."

"Thank you, Mr Rollins," Kathryn Janeway said tersely. Tom could hear the tinge of fear in her voice.

We'll be in bad shape when those Cardies are done with us...

"Captain, when the transports are made, I suggest we hightail it out of here," Tom said as he turned to look at her. She had risen from her command chair and was standing a metre behind him, staring intently at the viewscreen. He sighed. Kathryn Janeway was a very worried Captain. She had to get Chakotay to safety not only because of the information he had on the Cardassians, but because he was her husband. He knew she was emotionally involved in this mission.’

If they failed...

"Tom, bring us in slowly," the Captain ordered.

"Captain, there is one Cardassian vessel off our port bow," Tom replied as he reduced warp speed and edged closer.

"Shall we hail them, Captain?" Harry asked.

Tom kept his eyes glued to the panel, but heard the excitement in Harry's voice. The kid's got a lot to learn...

"No, Mr Kim. They know we're here, you can bet on that. Follow in, Tom."

Tom's heart raced as they approached the first of the plasma turbulences. He had flown through this often enough in the Limpet and the Liberty. It was simple enough. On a very small vessel he could just maneuver past cloud bursts and ion storms, even go through them at certain points. This was Voyager, much larger, but tiny by Federation standards. He hoped Starfleet would send the USS Defiant too, as back-up.

"Hold on!"

Voyager dipped, careened madly, then Tom righted the vessel only to have it rocked again as they hit storm after storm. At one moment he clung to his seat after being thrown from it, while behind him he heard a thud as Eamon Daley landed on the floor. Still, Tom managed to keep Voyager going.

"Mr Rollins, status!" he heard Captain Janeway's voice.

"The Cardassian vessel is powering up its weapons, Captain. We can - "

"Kim, bring that ship in closer. Shields up!"

In a second, the Cardassian warship came into view. The next moment, it opened fire and Voyager rocked as Tom swung her sharply to port.

"Phew, that was close," he muttered.

"Rollins!"

"Starboard side strafed, Captain. No extensive damage. Shields at 90%!" Rollins responded calmly.

Tom lined Voyager for attack, waiting the Captain's orders.

"Mr Paris, evasive maneuver Omega 6."

"Got it, Captain," he replied swiftly. He knew what she wanted to do. They were going for the Cardassian vessel's critical systems, the most vulnerable spot just off its port bow.

"Prepare photon torpedo, Mr Rollins."

"Done, Captain."

"Fire!"

The next moment they watched as the Cardassian war ship was struck, careened to her port side before exploding.Tom smiled grimly as he brought Voyager to port again, gingerly bringing her through several more violent waves.

"Mr Kim, report!"

"Captain, I have the Liberty on our sensors now."

"Captain, there are seven Cardassian vessels approaching..." came Magnus Rollins' voice.

"Captain?"

"I thought there were only five..." Captain Janeway murmured.

"The one we hit must have been a decoy, Captain. I suggest we retreat - "

"No! We go in. Mr Kim, can you hail the Liberty?"

All Tom and the rest of the bridge crew could hear was static amidst the violent turbulence. His heart sank.

"Captain, I think - "

"Tom, bring us in closer to those vessels."

"Captain, they're too far from the Liberty still. The Liberty must have evaded them. They're on the other side, Captain."

"We get in, get out. That's the order. We have to get that crew to safety."

"They're waiting for us, Captain."

"I know."

"Captain, the Liberty has been hit. Her shields are down. That's odd. The ship should have been destroyed."

"Not so odd if they meant to play cat and mouse with it," Captain Janeway replied, her voice remarkably even, Tom thought. What were the Cardassians doing? Unless, he realised, and his heart raced madly at the thought, they were waiting for Voyager to arrive and Evek meant for them to witness the destruction of the Liberty and the death of its leader.

_Hell, we're in hell. We've been ambushed._

Tom was very certain Kathryn Janeway felt the same. They were sitting ducks...

"Captain, we're being hailed by the Liberty..."

"On screen!"

The next moment, Chakotay's face filled the main viewscreen.

"Chakotay!"

****

Kathryn froze as she saw Chakotay's face. Blood oozed from his temple and his eyes were wild. Next to him, to his right, B'Elanna Torres looked towards them, and Kathryn noted idly in those few seconds in which time stood still, that there was a pleading in her eyes. When Chakotay spoke, his voice was hoarse and urgent.

"Kathryn, download all my files to Voyager - "

Hardly had he finished when Kathryn's hand went up and Harry Kim started downloading the files from the Liberty to her ready room.

"Done, Captain," Harry said.

"Listen," Chakotay said, "this is an ambush. I've managed to elude them for the last few days. Those war birds are aft of the Liberty."

"We know, Chakotay. Mr Rollins, arrange for the transport of the crew."

"Leave me here, Kathryn. They want me - "

"No, Chakotay. I'm under orders to get you. You're coming with us."

"They're waiting, Kathryn. In a moment the vessels will reappear. They've been playing cat and mouse with us. Go back. Take my crew, Kathryn."

Several of the Liberty's crew materialised on the bridge and Ayala ushered them quickly to the turboblift doors while two or three remained on the bridge. Kathryn felt the blood drain from her face. They looked bedraggled, some injured. The EMH was going to come online as she had predicted.

"Chakotay, we have your crew."

"I'm going to ram into one of the Cardassian vessels, Kathryn. Don't stop me. I'm buying you some time to get the other four...or to get away."

Then the screen went blank and Kathryn stared in speechless shock at the screen.

"Harry, the moment the Liberty hits that vessel, transport Captain Chakotay to Voyager - "

"But, Captain, he said - "

"Do it!"

"Aye, Captain!"

The Liberty approached the Cardassian vessel as Kathryn looked on, her heart pumping wildly. Right at the moment of impact, Chakotay appeared on the bridge of Voyager, standing right next to Kathryn.

"Chakotay, thank God, you're safe!"

Chakotay held her shoulders; for a few moments only they existed, and everything else receded.

"Kathryn," Chakotay said softly, his voice deep, a hoarse croak, "your vessel is surrounded. There are three more - "

"Captain, we're being hailed by the lead Cardassian vessel," Harry said quickly. Kathryn and Chakotay looked at the viewscreen.

"On screen."

The face of a Cardassian gul appeared on the screen. Chakotay whispered softly "Evek". Evek looked first at Chakotay, then at Kathryn.

"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager - "

"I know who you are, Captain Janeway. My name is Gul Evek. Our torpedoes are locked on to your vessel. Voyager will be destroyed. Release the prisoners to us."

"I can't do that, Evek. In a few minutes your vessels will be destroyed by Federation ships entering this region right now - "

Chakotay leaned over to Kathryn and whispered, "He knows you're bluffing, Kathryn. Voyager will be destroyed."

"Chakotay, I'll do my best; I'm not giving in."

"Dammit, Kathryn!"

At that moment, the Vetar opened fire, followed by phaser blasts from three other vessels. Voyager careened, rocked, and by the time Tom managed to get on an even keel, consoles on the bridge exploded and the bulkheads to his left caved in on Andra Stadi. Tom, who had been thrown from his seat before settling the ship again, crawled to where she was lying. He gave a pained cry before looking at the Captain.

"She's dead..."

"Mr Rollins, report!"

"Hull breaches and damage on decks 9, 12 and 14, Captain. 37 seven injured and eight crew dead."

Kathryn's eyes closed as Chakotay held her up.

"Captain Janeway, you can see there is no way out for you. Release that infidel Chakotay and his crew, and we'll let you pass. He killed my comrades and Sub-commander Sedeka - "

"Kathryn, listen to him - "

"Captain, they're powering their weapons again," Magnus Rollins warned.

"Shields!"

Kathryn looked at the screen again, heard Tom say softly, "we're sitting ducks...". She prayed fervently that their back-up was only minutes away. Every single second counted. How the Federation vessels were going to make it into the Badlands... Her heart raced painfully. She couldn't lose her ship, couldn't lose Chakotay and his crew. She looked at the uncompromising, smirking Cardassian.

"Evek, I'm willing to negotiate. A few more minutes. It's all I ask. Just a few minutes."

Gul Evek sneered. Kathryn wanted to kill him. The smoke had settled and the bridge officers were back at their stations. Stadi's body had been beamed to sick bay. Kathryn glanced sideways at Chakotay and knew he wished that he had killed Evek when he had the opportunity. Evek had the upper hand. Her ship was already severely damaged. She could lose them all... She groaned. Eight crew dead...

"Captain, the Saratoga, Ohio and Serengeti  are on their way," Tom whispered so that Evek couldn't hear.

"Thank God..." she said, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.

Then, her brief respite was interrupted by Evek's strident voice.

"In ten minutes, Captain Janeway, seven vessels will fire at Voyager if you do not release the prisoners."

Kathryn prayed by then that the Federation vessels had arrived. At least, with more fire power, they could disable the Cardassians with their photon torpedoes.

"Very well, Captain Janeway. You have only - "

"Wait!" Chakotay said as he raised his hand.

"What, the enlightened Chakotay asks me to wait? Why should I?"

"Spare my crew, Evek. They've done nothing but follow my orders."

"Exactly! The blood of my comrades is on their hands too."

"It's me you want, Evek, you know that. Only me, no one else."

Evek seemed to consider Chakotay's words for a moment. The next second, the screen went blank and Kathryn stared in agony at Chakotay. She gestured in the direction of the ready room, turning only once to speak with Eamon Daley.

"Commander, you have the bridge."

In the ready room Kathryn turned on Chakotay.

"You can't do that, Chakotay," she said urgently, all thought that she had missed him for two months suddenly gone. "You can't!"

Chakotay gripped Kathryn's shoulders and he shook her. "Kathryn, listen to me. He wants me. I'll barter for my crew, but they want me. Take them home, it's all I ask."

"Chakotay, please - "

"Kathryn, would you rather have Voyager destroyed with everyone on board?"

She closed her eyes at the prospect of that happening within the next few minutes.

"Our back-up is arriving, Chakotay. They're only ten minutes away - "

"Oh, God, Kathryn! It's too late!"

Chakotay pulled Kathryn to him, his grip on her shoulders tightening and his eyes filled with fire. Kathryn wanted to die. His face was bloodied, but he seemed unaware of the blood and the pain. She noticed absently that he limped a little and wondered whether he had injured his leg again. For a few moments Chakotay's eyes closed as the enormity of what he considered hit him, but Kathryn saw his pride, the courageous way of the warrior who fought to the very last for his people.

"My crew are good people, Kathryn. They don't deserve Cardassian prison camps. They don't deserve labour mines, they don't deserve punishment. I'm the one they're after; I'm the one Evek hates. Kathryn, I piloted the shuttle that killed Soren, his son. Don't you see? It's a personal score Evek wants to settle with me. I've outwitted and killed his best officer in the field and he wants his revenge. He'll not rest until he kills all of us. Why do you think he let me leave the Vetar that time when I was on it? Evek was biding his time. He was waiting for a moment like this one..."

"Where I could witness..." Kathryn breathed softly, her eyes burning. Chakotay nodded.

"But Kathryn, I can't do it at the cost of my crew and yours. While Evek's in a giving mood...while he will still spare Voyager, let me go."

"Chakotay! No!"

Kathryn gave a sob and threw herself in Chakotay's arms, knowing that time was running out for them. The Ohio, Serengeti and Saratoga would be ambushed like she had been, and then? Even if they were warned, more ships would be too late...too late... Those vessels would be destroyed with their crews and so would Voyager.  She shivered violently. Chakotay held her as if he would never let her go, yet Kathryn felt how his body, too, shuddered. When he held her away from him, his eyes were deep pools of sorrow.

"I ask for nothing but that you save our crews, Kathryn."

"What about me then, Chakotay? What about me and Hannah? What about us?"

She couldn't cry, although her eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew what fate awaited Chakotay. She had seen so many Bajorans on Bajor, beaten to within an inch of their lives, enslaved, tortured, humiliated. Fine, fine people in whose eyes had shone only the grace of giving and the strength of sacrifice. She knew about the women of Dorvan V, about his father's torture and about Tomaso who was beheaded for trying to save his parents' lives. She knew about Cardassian prison camps, about pain and degradation. This was what Chakotay faced. He pleaded for her crew and his own; he pleaded for the Toms and B'Elannas and Dalbys and Henleys and Daleys and Rollinses. Chakotay asked for clemency for everyone but himself.

How could she not ask that question? How could she not? For a moment she was not Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Federation Starship Voyager, Intrepid class. She was just a woman, his wife, and mother to their daughter.

_What about us, Chakotay?_

She knew how he would reply...

"Kathryn, my love, remember...remember the words of a great man who said that the needs of the many should outweigh the needs of the few, or the one..."

Spock.

"We are Starfleet officers, Kathryn, and right now, I will do what I must to save my beloved wife and child, but I will also do what I must to save my crew and yours.

She gave a deep sob, threw herself into his arms again and only then wept for a few pain-filled moments. When she stood back, she was calm, or, at least appeared to be. Gently, she cupped his cheek, wanting to cry as his eyes closed and he pressed his mouth into her palm. When he looked at her again, a strange calm had settled in him too.

Slowly, Kathryn pulled away her collar and pulled out the locket he had given her on their wedding day. It lay on her palm as she held it out to him and he took it with trembling fingers, opening it reverently. Kathryn gave a tired smile. Over Jaime's inscription rested now a photo of herself, and on the other side, where Hannah's name had been, a picture of their baby.

"Always, Kathryn, I will think of you," he said slowly after he put the locket round his own neck and tucked it under his shirt. "Always, thoughts of you and our daughter will keep me alive..."

She stood hands at her sides, knowing that the minute they stepped outside the ready room door, that it would be the last time she would see Chakotay.

"Promise me, Kathryn, you'll never cry. Promise me you'll find Winonah and make her our daughter. Promise to tell Hannah about her father..."

Kathryn nodded mutely. Then she turned; Chakotay followed her to the bridge where the senior officers of Voyager, as well as some of his senior crew waited.

************* 

Tom Paris wanted to rise from his chair as he swiveled round when the Captain and Chakotay entered the bridge again. They had three minutes left, too little time to make any concerted effort at attacking the seven Cardassian vessels that surrounded them. Even with Chakotay's most sophisticated evasive maneuvers, they couldn't get out alive. He thought of Admiral James T. Kirk who, the only cadet in Starfleet's history who had succeeded in beating the Kobayashi Maru scenario. Now, they were in a similar situation. Only, this was not a simulation he could reprogramme to obtain his own desired outcome. It was a real, terrifyingly real no-win situation they were in, and the only way... Tom sighed as he saw the look on Captain Janeway's face. It was etched with worry and sorrow while Chakotay looked grim, unsmiling. Who could smile in this situation? In three minutes, all the Cardassian vessels would fire at will and they would be no more.

He prayed he wouldn't know what hit him. He prayed that in his last moments, there would be only white light and through that light, he'd see his parents and he'd see himself standing next to Freyne Detroit, his best friend, at water's edge, bouncing pebbles.

He prayed...

He prayed that Chakotay had a solution to beat the Kobayashi Maru. Tom saw them through a haze and he rose to his feet spontaneously as Chakotay approached him.

"Take them home safely, Tom," Chakotay said softly, then glanced at B'Elanna and back at Tom. "She's a handful, but take care of her for me, will you?" Tom nodded, but B'Elanna, sensing what was happening or going to happen, lunged forward and planted herself between Chakotay and Kathryn. Her eyes bore into Kathryn's.

"How can you let him do this? How? We all go down together, all of us. I am not afraid to die! What right - "

Then Chakotay grabbed B'Elanna by the shoulder and without looking at her, said calmly, "She's the Captain. Follow her commands, Torres."

"No!"

"B'Elanna," Tom began, trying to calm the angry woman, "you know about honour. You know about honour..."

B'Elanna turned to face him, her eyes distraught as she looked at Kathryn.

"C-captain?"

"It's an order, B'Elanna," Kathryn Janeway said heavily.

B'Elanna looked at Tom and he rose to his feet to stand next to her. She did not demur when he held her hand in his.

****************

Young Harry Kim stood at Ops. In his first posting, he was still a little afraid of Captain Janeway. She loomed so large that he stood constantly in awe of her; most times when he passed her in the corridor, he jerked to attention. The first day after he had come on board and was summoned to her ready room, he hadn't known how to address her, and kept calling her "Sir." While she didn't mind that, and told him that she accepted "Ma'am" in a pinch, he was ordered to call her Captain. He had been standing stiffly at attention until she told him to relax before he sprained something. He'd tried to relax, heaven knows. But when a Starfleet captain's reputation preceded her all over Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy, and when that Starfleet captain had a husband who was renowned for valour and distinction and who had a reputation for decking a comrade if he got angry - Harry had heard about the five Cardassians Chakotay had killed in a single swoop - how could he not stand in awe of her? He supposed he would feel the same in the presence of the enlightened Captain Jean-Luc Picard, but Harry didn’t have the same admiration for him as he did for Kathryn Janeway.’

Captain Janeway had told him how, almost three years ago when he'd played Mozart's Clarinet Concerto at a Command Performance for the President of the Federation, she and Captain Chakotay had gone to see his performance. He had been gratified when she told him that in a way, he'd brought them together.

He had heard so many stories about Captain Kathryn Janeway that when he applied for a commission in Starfleet, he requested that it be on any vessel which she commanded, even if he had to wait another year before he got assigned. He had been selected ahead of his best friend, Daniel Byrd, for a commission on board the USS Voyager and had been over the moon when he heard the news and told his fiancé Libby about it. And, he was even more gratified when the Captain told him she’d chosen him from many hopefuls.

Harry had heard about Captain Janeway's husband; he had just missed the class the year Commander Chakotay - he had been a Commander then - had taught Advanced Tactical Maneuvers to senior cadets. Now, for the first time, he saw Captain Janeway's husband up close. Chakotay looked rugged, manly, very warrior-like with the tattoo over his left eyebrow. He saw how close the Captain stood next to her husband. Although they never touched, it seemed to him they didn’t need to. There was an indefinable connection, a bond anyone could see even in these final critical moments. Chakotay never looked at his wife, yet Harry was convinced that he saw her and was aware of her eyes on him. There was a calm about him that, in the dying moments of Voyager, was humbling. He knew that they had said their good-byes in the ready room. He knew that The Warrior, as he was known to every cadet trained by him, as well as every officer under his command, was going to sacrifice himself for the ship. 

For just a few seconds, the altercation between B'Elanna and Chakotay and the Captain disturbed the small cocoon of peace in which the whole bridge was wrapped. If they got out of here alive, he knew that for many years, there would be talk of this incident, and this day on which a man became more than a man.

It humbled him and for that, he would be prepared to lay down his own life.

********* 

Magnus Rollins, Chief of Tactical and Security, stood passive at his station, yet inside him a torrent raged. He had known Kathryn Janeway for years, and had served with her on her two previous vessels. In private moments they were on a first name basis, and many times, when they had a few moments together in which they shared stories of family and life, she had told him about Chakotay. He had met Chakotay, and was one of the few officers on board Voyager to have befriended the husband of Kathryn Janeway.

She had been without Chakotay for a long time before their baby was born; he knew they had suffered together and come through a baptism of fire in which their union had been tested to the limit. He knew the sacrifice Chakotay was about to make, and even if Captain Janeway offered a thousand alternative solutions, Chakotay, once a Starfleet officer, would remind Kathryn Janeway that they were Starfleet officers and that risks and sacrifices were part of the job.

Part of the job...

The minute they came out of the ready room, Magnus nodded gravely to both of them as they looked first at him, then continued to walk until they stood just behind Tom Paris. Both stood with their hands at their sides, but to him, they might very well have embraced. That was how strong the bond was between them. It was as if touch and voice and feeling were unnecessary as invisible thread tied them together.

Who but the gods could be so cruel to separate them?

*** 

Commander Eamon Daley, first officer of Voyager, rose to his feet as the Captain and Chakotay appeared on the bridge again. He had known, from the moment they entered the ready room, that they were weighing Voyager's options and for a moment, a moment only, Eamon felt redundant. Chakotay appeared more like the first officer of Voyager as the Captain sought her own husband's thoughts on the fate of her vessel. Chakotay had just lost his own ship, and though to Eamon the Liberty looked like space junk, it was the vessel Chakotay and his crew had lived on and fought daily to stay one step ahead of the Cardassians and the Federation. Now, amazingly if somewhat belatedly, the Federation had reconsidered their position on the Maquis. Some cells like Chakotay's group had been given special dispensation to act as para-military force for the Federation. He had already been in consultation with Captain Janeway about the fate of the Maquis on board Voyager, and he suspected strongly that some of them might be given field commissions.

Eamon watched as Captain Janeway and Chakotay stood on the bridge, ready to hail the lead Cardassian vessel under the command of Gul Evek. Although Kathryn Janeway never showed it, he had known how concerned she had been; many nights he could hear her in her quarters, unable to sleep. He remembered how much he'd been impressed by the Captain's husband when he'd met him during the Commander's visit to her vessel over a year ago. Granted, the Captain and Chakotay almost never left her quarters and were reported to have snuck to the holodecks in the dead of night, but it had done the Captain a world of good to have her husband visiting for a few days.

Always, the fates conspired to separate them. Now, in the no-win situation they found themselves in, even now, Commander Chakotay  fought to save everyone's life but his own. He stood there, as fearless as he always looked, ready to face Gul Evek, a man who'd hunted him for a long time. Gul Evek would show no mercy as far as Chakotay was concerned.

No mercy.

That was the thing that worried him.

What fate lay in store for Captain Janeway's husband?

Eamon Daley didn't want to think about it. All he knew, was that a great man was willing to lay down his life, not for his wife and child, but for his crew and the crew of Voyager.

What love could be greater than that?

***

Kenneth Albrecht Dalby, who at one time had aspired to join the Academy, but instead followed a career in law enforcement, and B'Elanna Torres were the only two of the Liberty's crew who had been transported from their ship to the bridge of Voyager. Although he had never met Kathryn Janeway, he had communicated with her before when he sent her the co-ordinates of the probable places where she could help in the search for little Winonah. Seeing Kathryn Janeway on the bridge, he thought she was beautiful. His Celine was also beautiful but he had never seen such fire in one person as he had seen in the wife of Chakotay. For a brief moment Ken resented that she was alive and his Celine was dead, but he put that thought quickly out of his mind.

He had known Chakotay since they both joined the Maquis and had become his closest friend and right hand man on the Liberty. Here, in the flesh, he could see the bond even stronger than he had imagined. There was no doubt in his mind about what lay in store for Chakotay; even if he wanted to join his friend wherever they were to take him, he knew Chakotay would deck him and state coldly that Captain Janeway needed the expertise and service.

It would have been fruitless to go against Chakotay's wishes. The man looked uncompromising, set on what he was about to do. It wasn't heroics but a simple, humble conviction that he alone could save them all from certain death.

When he looked at the two of them standing together, hands at their sides, he knew that whatever happened from this point on, in heart and mind and soul, Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway would be together.

That was what it meant to be bonded for life as soul mates.

***************

Chakotay stared briefly at Kathryn. She hadn't touched him since they entered the bridge together and now, her heart felt heavy, so heavy that she had no thought, not yet, at least, of how, for the third time in her life with Chakotay, she would cope without him again. She knew instinctively that as a Starfleet officer she had to cope and put all manners of masks in place lest anyone see how she was bleeding.

She didn't want to think about whether she would ever see him again; she just knew the terrible loneliness that even now, as Gul Evek's face appeared on the screen again, settled like a cold, clammy, dark morning in her.

She gave a deep sigh and, briefly touching Chakotay's hand, felt his firmness; for a moment at least, she was bolstered by his courage.

Chakotay turned to face her.

_This is it, my love, we are parting again._

_You know I never wished for this to happen._

_Take good care of my children for me, my love._

_As best as I can; they will always remember you, Chakotay._

_In my heart and mind, you will be there. Thoughts of you and Winonah and Hannah will keep me alive, I swear it, Kathryn._

_I know that you will, Chakotay. That is why I can hope. I can hope that one day, you will be back, by my side..._

Chakotay touched her cheek - a fleeting, feather light touch that ignored the pained stares of the others. His eyes closed at the softness of the touch. When he dropped his hand to his side again and opened his eyes, he nodded solemnly.

The next moment, Gul Evek's face appeared on the screen.

"Evek," Chakotay started, "you take me alone, or you kill all of us..."

Evek's face remained expressionless, unlike the sneering and smirking look he had earlier. He inclined his head, the only concession he made to Chakotay's demand.

"Remove your weapons, Chakotay," he ordered stiffly.

Slowly, Chakotay unclipped the phaser from his waist band and handed it to Kathryn. Then he removed his d'k tahg, resting it on his palm for a second before handing that over too.

"There is another weapon, Chakotay."

Without speaking, Chakotay bent down and unclipped the dagger and sheath that he had tied around the top band of his boot. When he straightened up, his mouth was tight, a thin white line around the edges as he complied.

"Good. Now transport yourself to the Vetar."

Chakotay turned to Kathryn and gave her an agonising look before he unclasped his site-to-site transporter. He entered a few codes, then looked at Kathryn again.

I love you...

The next moment, Chakotay was gone.

"Thank you, Captain Janeway."

Then the screen went blank again. For endless moments everyone around Kathryn stood still. Her hands shook as she held Chakotay's weapons. The silence on the bridge hung heavily in the air.

"Captain," Magnus Rollins's voice broke the heavy silence, "all seven Cardassian vessels have left."

Kathryn could only nod in acknowledgement. She turned slowly, giving a deep sigh as she sat down in her command chair, still holding the phaser and daggers. She looked around her, noting the expressions of her senior officers as well as B'Elanna and Ken Dalby. In a few minutes, when she could breathe again without feeling the excruciating pain that accompanied every breath, without hearing the sounds of a thousand cries in her head, she would order Eamon Daley to arrange quarters for the Maquis crew. She would request from Starfleet Command that she be allowed to give them field commissions and serve on her vessel. But all that for later. Right now...

They waited for her and very slowly she rose to her feet again, ready to give the next command. Her voice when she spoke, was clear, without a hint of a quaver about it. Her eyes remained fixed on the viewscreen - a blank, unfeeling, unsmiling, impersonal viewscreen that mocked her.

"Mr Paris, set a course...for home."

"Aye, Captain."

***

**END CHAPTER 33**

**END BOOK FOUR: MAQUIS**

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay is in a Cardassian prison. Kathryn must continue without him, both as a parent and as captain of Voyager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the start of BOOK FIVE: LIGHT

 

 **CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR**  

**August 2371**

The United Federation of planets, currently engaged in war with the Cardassian Union, had received little assistance, not that it had asked for any, when the Union and the Dominion united in an attempt to bring down the most powerful commonwealth in the galaxy. In year 1 of the Great War, the Federation suffered many defeats, crushed at the Battle of Gundor, where it lost seventeen of its twenty two starships and battle cruisers. In another offensive, the Dominion attacked ten Federation vessels on route to the Gamma Quadrant where they were supposed to relieve the heavily damaged Seventh Fleet. At that point, the Cardassian-Dominion Axis was ready to cry victory, but the Federation hit back, gaining an important victory at the Battle of Keprod, where several of the Cardassian Union's most advanced vessels were stationed. Thus, a stalemate of some kind ensued where each side battled for supremacy, and in the process forced to count the cost of their actions. Thousands of lives were lost during the first year, a situation the United Federation of Planets found untenable. It sought to end hostilities as soon as possible to ensure that no more lives were sacrificed.

This apparent about turn of the Federation offered little consolation to those home worlds destroyed completely by the Cardassians - worlds that had been under Federation Rule until the truce was signed early in 2371. All warnings up to that time that the Cardassians were playing an evil game in which their only objective was to extend their empire regardless of the cost, had fallen on deaf ears. The Federation was willing to concede that it had been blind and naïve in thinking that a truce would be enough to secure peace. History had demonstrated repeatedly how easily respect for truces, as well as the conventions of war, could disappear in times of conflict. Did not a mad megalomaniac in Earth’s twentieth century have a flagrant disregard for human life and rules and dignity? That was the question that had been on the lips of historians and political analysts and philosophers. With its humanitarian principles regarded as  one of its greatest strengths, the Federation was soon rudely awakened to the reality that, in certain situations, those principles could also become its greatest weakness; for while it believed in fighting fair, the enemy had no such reserve and pounced ruthlessly, rattling the Federation to its very foundations.

The Federation had acknowledged its error and was concentrating now on destroying the power of the Cardassians once and for all.

But relief was not in sight; while the Klingon and Romulan Empires had joined in the fray against the might of the Cardassian-Dominion Alliance, it seemed likely they were engaging an unbeatable foe. It was only when the Dominion turned on its allies early in year two of the War, to establish a more far reaching control and extend its own empire, that Cardassia Prime, once considered its friend, began to crumble. It was not something that the Federation wished upon its enemy, which still preferred to bury its head in the sand and continue in its war against the Federation. Still, war inevitably produced its casualties, collateral damage the enemy justified by insisting that innocents were part of the war and that it was unfortunate that they were in the way. So said the head of the Cardassian Offensive when, in the latest skirmish, it killed thousands of innocents at the Battle of Balkon IV to gain control over only two Constellation Class Federation starships.

The Federation tried several bold initiatives at this time and during the second year of the war, it reaped results. It turned to a motley band of renegades to assist them in their effort against the enemy. Once considered traitors and criminals, betrayers of the cause of the Federation and all its ideals, the Maquis engendered a new phase in the thinking and strategy of Starfleet Command. It was their instinct for waging guerrilla type warfare and the 'no rules policy' they applied to their tactics of attacking both Federation and Cardassian installations, that proved beyond doubt that the strength of the Maquis could be harnessed into something useful and honourable. It was a state of affairs that did not go down well with the few die hard Federationists who still thought of the Maquis as traitors. For once, the Maquis and the Federation had a common goal. In gaining the trust of the Maquis and assurances that in a post war climate there would be no retribution, the Federation vowed that certain criminal acts committed by individual Maquis be examined,  each one on its own merit. The Maquis sighed relief. Now, they were not alone in fighting the might of the Cardassians; they had the entire United Federation of Planets behind them.

In simple military terms this meant that the Federation could play the game their way by getting the Maquis on its side. By doing this they reduced the risks the former outlaws posed to the Federation. As an effective strategy with only one goal, which was to bring the war to a close sooner, it could also mean that the Federation might renege on their offer of pardon once their objective had been achieved and throw all Maquis in jail. That might have been true as a thought still harboured by those mistrustful of the Federation's commitment, but the clear message sent by the Federation was that they would not renege on their pledge.

It meant more to the Maquis that the Federation finally acknowledged the role they could play in military offensives. They needed the expertise of many good Maquis leaders, most of whom had been their greatest tacticians. These men and women were at the forefront of Maquis operations and knew all the tricks and strategies to survive any onslaught.

They recalled former Starfleet Captain, Berrol Oldimar, who headed one of the biggest Maquis cells and who had resigned from the Federation out of protest, after several homeworlds formally under Federation mandate - a caretaker arrangement it had with homeworlds that were still negotiating leaderships and truces - were destroyed by the Cardassian Union. Oldimar was a brilliant tactician whose worth was lost to the Federation when he joined the Maquis. Now, back in the fold of Starfleet Command, his expertise proved invaluable to the cause.  Many good former Starfleet personnel, who’d also left Starfleet, were recalled or pardoned and their services enlisted.

Captain Chakotay, formerly First Officer of the USS Ormskirk, had also resigned from the Federation and joined the Maquis. In his case he was never recalled to duty for the Federation,  since on a technicality, he’d never left it. No one, not even Captain Kathryn Janeway, his wife, knew that he had been asked to do undercover work for Starfleet Command. Even during the time he was considered a renegade and traitor, Captain Chakotay had been instrumental in attacking and revealing key Cardassian communications installations. It was ironic that it was this work done by Captain Chakotay that led the Federation War Office, in a drive headed by Admirals Paris and Ponsonby to promote the value of the  Maquis, to finally accept the full value of the Maquis, although Admiral Alynna Nechayev still persisted in persecuting the Maquis once the War was over. It was only  after a sustained effort of persuasion by Admirals Paris, Ponsonby and Lewis, that Nechayev relaxed her rigid stance against the Maquis and Captain Chakotay. When another major offensive started by the Maquis and finished by several Starfleet destroyers proved extremely successful for the Federation, striking a deep dent in the Cardassian defences, did Nechayev finally relent.

Still, the end of the war was not in sight, and when Starfleet launched its latest, most revolutionary  vessel, the USS Voyager captained by Captain Kathryn Janeway, it was with the express purpose of launching a rescue operation on its maiden mission, since the Liberty, Maquis vessel under the command of Captain Chakotay, was ambushed in the Badlands by several Cardassian vessels. Captain Chakotay, secretly engaged in furnishing the Federation with key intelligence from the moment he joined the Maquis - that fact had only been made known to Admiral Nechayev very recently - was in possession of critical information that would, in the hands of the Cardassians, allow the enemy to gain a valuable foothold in their offensives against the Federation. It was therefore a matter of life and death to get Chakotay and the Liberty out of harm's way. But Voyager had been led into an ambush and in the end, to save the lives of the crew of the Liberty and of Voyager, Captain Chakotay exchanged his valued freedom for the safety of the two crews. In a bold attempt, and knowing that imprisonment in a Cardassian labour camp meant certain death, Captain Chakotay bade farewell to those who fought with him in the name of freedom and to Captain Kathryn Janeway, his wife. Only minutes before Chakotay had beamed over to the Cardassian Warship, the Vetar, he oversaw the download of all official and personal records and logs from the Liberty to Voyager's computer.

********************************

It had been three months since Captain Chakotay sacrificed his own freedom to ensure the safety of the crews of the Liberty and Voyager. The Liberty had been destroyed when Captain Chakotay rammed his vessel into a Cardassian ship in order to buy Voyager and its crew some time. On impact, Chakotay had been transported to Voyager.

Realising that there was nothing she could do, Captain Janeway ordered Voyager to head for Federation space again.

She had little hope that Chakotay would be spared by the Cardassians, and her knowledge of how the inhabitants of Dorvan V had been tortured, ravaged and mutilated, left her nothing to hope for in the treatment of her husband as a prisoner of war.

Therefore, Kathryn Janeway shut herself off from thoughts of his maltreatment and the known atrocities the Cardassians committed with no regard for interplanetary agreements on the treatment of prisoners of war. Indeed, such agreements did exist, but the Cardassians were notorious for disregarding any convention and truce that had been drawn up between them and the United Federation of Planets.

On returning home briefly before Voyager set out to join the rest of the Fleet, her meeting with Admirals Paris, Ponsonby and Lewis had been the first order of business. It was a difficult confrontation, facing the very men who had, in various ways, shaped her career and personal life.

"There was nothing you could do in the circumstances, Kathryn," Owen Paris said, from where he stood at the tall window of his office. There had been a pensive look in his eyes as he stared out the window.

"Kathryn..." She had been too distraught to hear her stepfather's voice at first; when he said her name again, she looked up at him. He was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder. In his touch she felt solace. "He saved the lives of two crews, Kathryn..."

"It doesn't bring him back here, does it?" she asked, feeling not in the least consoled. "I failed him, Admiral. The mission was supposed to be a success. I - "

"Kathryn," Admiral Lewis's voice reached her, "Captain Chakotay also downloaded all the critical intelligence as well as other information he thought might endanger you further."

She knew how important that had been. It had been a  superfast reaction and thinking on his part and that of Magnus Rollins to ensure that nothing remained on the Liberty. It was why the Cardassians could destroy the vessel with so much ease - they’d found nothing there. Still, it was only a small consolation. The first time she had seen Chakotay in months since her birthday, and the parting had been shattering.

"I understand, Admiral," she sighed. Once in Federation space, she had handed over the information to Starfleet Command. It included the crew complement of Chakotay's vessel as well as all encrypted information to Admirals Paris and Ponsonby about communications between them and the Liberty.

She had been depressed for a few days, and when she visited her mother in her new home, had burst into tears when the first word Hannah uttered was "Da-da..." She wallowed only a short while in morbid thoughts; Chakotay's face, just before he disappeared in the transporter beam, was still clear in her memory, in her waking moments and even in her dreams. He had been momentarily distraught, fear he’d banked instantly because she knew he didn't want to unsettle her further by showing that he was afraid of what would happen to him.

She had spent a few days with her mother, stepfather and Hannah, days in which she resolved to find Winonah and to push away all thoughts of how Chakotay must be suffering, how he might even be dead.

Hannah had been demanding, but for once Kathryn revelled in her daughter's seemingly unending energetic exuberance. A few times Hannah had been fractious and Kathryn knew that small as she was, she missed her father.

Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby had been ever supportive in her no-nonsense manner which for once, Kathryn didn't mind. It kept her from pondering too much on Chakotay's fate. Hannah loved her Grandma and Grandpa and her aunt Phoebe, who popped in from time to time. And then there was Ceara. She was all over Hannah and even though the child couldn't walk yet, she would soon, if only to run after the dog. Ceara was now a strapping year old with a smooth sheen to her red coat, and she completely adored Hannah.

It was with a slightly lighter heart that Kathryn left her family to resume her duties again as Captain of Voyager.

***

**Somewhere in Federation space - November 2371**

Kathryn Janeway studied the report in front of her intently. Magnus Rollins had given a shake of his head just before she dismissed him so that he could resume his duties on the bridge. Kathryn smiled grimly, wondering how she was going to resolve the spats between B'Elanna Torres and Joe Carey, Voyager's Chief Engineer. It was the second time in the last two months that Joe had been treated by Sergei Karkoff in sickbay for a broken nose.

B'Elanna admittedly had a short fuse, but Kathryn could understand the young woman's impatience with Joe. While Joe was always careful, perhaps far too pragmatic for the likes of the former Maquis who had once been a Starfleet cadet, B'Elanna Torres had blown her top at something Joe could have solved in less than half the time, if he had listened to her. Joe had taken her ideas and promptly rejected them, telling her that it was not Starfleet regulation, etc, etc.

She had had several meetings with B'Elanna since then, assuring her that while procedures had to adhere to the rules, there were times that Maquis tactics proved better in certain conditions. Kathryn sighed. B'Elanna had been none too happy, but the half-Klingon, half-human needed the discipline that was applied in Engineering by Joe Carey.

"But, Captain, the problem could have been solved in half the time!" B'Elanna's voice had trembled with outrage. "On the Liberty - "

"I am aware of your creative solutions on the Liberty," Kathryn cut in quickly, "but you're on a Federation starship, currently the fastest in the fleet - "

"I can make her faster, Captain!"

"To what end, B'Elanna?" Kathryn asked as she noted how B'Elanna beat her fist into her palm. B'Elanna's eyes were on fire.

"I - " B'Elanna paused, dropped the gaze that met Kathryn's so directly only moments before. "We could apply the Epileng Cross Maneuver more effectively..."

Kathryn knew where the conversation was leading, feeling for a moment the old twinge as Chakotay's image flashed in her mind. It was about Chakotay...always about Chakotay.

"I understand that you want to break Captain Chakotay out of that Cardassian prison, B'Elanna."

"It will work this time, Captain! Tom said - "

Tom said... Did B'Elanna even know how her tone of voice lowered and became softer when she mentioned Tom Paris's name?

"Tom can say as much as he wants right now. I have already noted his recommendations." Kathryn saw the surprise as B'Elanna's eyes widened. Kathryn smiled as B'Elanna shifted in her chair. "Look, I know you want Captain Chakotay back with us as much as everyone else, as much as I would like to have him here. I - " she didn't want to tell B'Elanna the origin of the latest intelligence - a one line communiqué from a very unlikely source – she’d received, "I can assure you that he is alive."

"Captain?"

"More I can't tell you, except that any move to free Captain Chakotay from a Cardassian Prison must include all the other Starfleet personnel and dissidents from other homeworlds also held by the Cardassians." Kathryn paused long enough to let B'Elanna absorb her words and was gratified when B'Elanna gave a little sheepish smile. Chakotay would never be happy being freed while others remained behind - men and women who deserved that freedom as much as he did. She knew Chakotay and she knew that as long as he was alive in any prison, that his concern would not only be for himself and his family, but for other prisoners as well. Kathryn sighed.

"Captain, I - I am sorry. I guess I jumped the gun there."

"It's alright, B'Elanna. When you go back to Engineering, don't forget to apologise to Joe Carey."

"Apologise? Captain, that man, he - !"

"As I said, do the right thing, Miss Torres. After all, you did break the man's nose."

"Captain!"

"And for a second offence, Miss Torres, I should let you cool off in the brig for 30 days."

"30 days..."

"But, in lieu of a period in the brig, I need you for another task.

For a moment Kathryn enjoyed the look of complete stupefaction on B'Elanna's face. If the mission hadn't been so urgent, she would have laughed. B'Elanna must have finally sensed that she hadn't been called to the ready room to be hauled over the coals, and when a long sigh of relief escaped the young half-Klingon woman, Kathryn reached forward and touched her hand. 

"Chakotay would have killed me..." B'Elanna said, her voice sounding awed.

"Make no mistake, B'Elanna, the next time you're guilty, it's the brig."

"Understood.  Captain, this...er, task."

"Yes, it's urgent. Here is the information..." Kathryn started, and then turned the vid-com so that B'Elanna could also look at the data. For the next few minutes they were deep in conversation, B'Elanna nodding her head from time to time. When they were finished at last, B'Elanna rose to her feet.

"Captain, you have great faith in me..."

"I know you can do it, B'Elanna."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Dismissed."

Kathryn watched in silence as B'Elanna exited the ready room. The Maquis had problems adjusting, but it was nothing that couldn't be dealt with if handled with care. Chakotay would have wanted them to integrate, and that thought alone made the transition for them bearable.

"I'm trying my best, Chakotay..." Kathryn whispered as she looked at the face of her husband, smiling from the gold frame of the photograph on her desk. "I'm trying..." she repeated.

******************************

"And you say your mother still lives on Bajor," B'Elanna said conversationally to Karan Tor who sat at the conn of the Cochrane, one of Voyager's shuttles. When he didn't respond, B'Elanna repeated her question. Still no response as he stared straight ahead of him. "Hey..."

"Yes, she lives there," he replied tersely, not looking at her when he spoke.

"I'm just trying to make conversation here."

"Why don't you just keep quiet?"

"We've had nothing but silence since we started out, what, fifteen hours ago?"

"Suits me just fine."

Tor shrugged as he spoke. He had nothing against B'Elanna Torres, but too aware of their task and of how much Captain Janeway depended on them, he was keeping quiet, thinking mostly of the plan they devised, and of his mother. Karan Ardra would be surprised to see him. Bajor had been depleted of all its resources, and now was mostly ignored by the Cardassians. Tor sighed. Most of the slaves had been freed and returned to Bajor. During the purge Karan Ardra had seen to it that her son escaped to Earth. There he’d stayed with old friends of his mother's until he decided to enrol in the Academy. Ardra had been happy, but the price she paid was to be a slave mistress like so many other Bajoran women. She bore Gul Gorek two sons...

B'Elanna had settled back in her seat next to him and was staring morosely at the viewscreen.

"Let me know when we get there," she said with a tinge of sarcasm as she folded her arms and closed her eyes.

Tor gave a sigh of relief. B'Elanna Torres could never be underestimated, he thought. She was a brilliant engineer, and many on board Voyager thought she was better than Joe Carey. Maybe when the war was over, she could go back to the Academy and complete her training. He snorted inwardly. He'd like to see some tutors get the better of B'Elanna Torres. For this mission, she was important, but he was the better pilot. All they had to do was get hold of one person, and he was certain that his mother knew his whereabouts.

He was glad to have been given his present commission on Voyager. He had liked serving on the USS Volga and the USS Osaka, but when he heard about Voyager, he had signed on immediately, wanting to serve under Captain Janeway on a brand new vessel. She was the wife of his former tutor and he had always admired and been in awe of Captain Chakotay. Now, he had been given a special assignment by the Captain and he felt deeply honoured that the Captain had chosen him, as well as B'Elanna Torres, for this mission.

He had been apprehensive when she hailed him and he had gone to see her in her ready room. Always, when he saw her, he was captivated by the Captain's beauty. But as he always saw the underlying sadness in his mother's eyes, so had he seen the sadness lurking in Captain Janeway's eyes. She could only assure him that Captain Chakotay, her husband, was still alive. More than that she told no one, but the crew had been happy to learn that Chakotay was still alive. He, Karan Tor, had no doubt about the kind of treatment Chakotay was subjected to and he had given a silent nod of understanding when she told him.  He had seen enough in his short life to know that the Cardassians were unfeeling butchers who experimented on people while they were still alive. That alone was an unspeakable atrocity and what hadn't been said between him and Captain Janeway, was simply knowledge that the worst was happening to Captain Chakotay.

Tor hadn't wanted to tell Captain Janeway of some of the methods of torture the Cardassians used; no doubt, the Captain must be aware of that herself. Captain Chakotay was a tough man. He'd not go down easily, Karan Tor thought, as they approached the Bajoran wormhole and prepared for the thrill of the ride through.

**************

"Tor, we'd better make this a very quick visit," B'Elanna said as they moved cautiously across a small plaza in the direction of the residential location.

"I know. I hadn't expected so many off-worlders here. But fear not, Torres, you do not stand out around here."

"So I noticed. We must have passed about twenty Klingons as well as some K'tarians and Romulans."

"Bajor poses no threat anymore, so visits from off-worlders are more common now, though to look at them, you'd not know there's a war. But we must speak with the one person with whom we need to get in contact."

B'Elanna slowed down and looked at Tor, her injunction of earlier that they hurry, momentarily forgotten.

"Did I say something wrong?" Tor asked her.

"No, but you're talking..."

Tor gave her a wry grin, his hand touching his earring in an unconscious gesture of pride.

"I was not on my best behaviour, Torres."

"Don't worry. You had...things on your mind."

Tor nodded his thanks and they proceeded along the first road they approached.

"Understood. Still, if we hurry, we could get back to Voyager in three days," he offered, not looking at her, instead, keeping his eyes on a point at the end of the long road. "We do have enough time that Captain Janeway can make the detour."

"I have a feeling we're running out of time, Tor."

"Don't worry, once we have concluded our mission here, it's plain sailing, as they say."

"You been talking to Tom Paris, Karan Tor?"

Tor smiled this time and B'Elanna gripped his arm in a comradely squeeze.

"Not many like him, B'Elanna, but I do. The Maquis are fighting on our side - "

"Get this, Karan, the Maquis were _always_ fighting on your side."

"You know what I mean."

B'Elanna let out a sigh, and seeing how Tor's expression became serious again, she said, "The Captain did mention that Starfleet Command gave her less than two weeks to complete the latest mission and we have to get Voyager through some hostile sectors."

"We're fairly clear here. I'm just home to visit my mother. That's our official-unofficial business here."

B'Elanna gave a light laugh.

"For official-unofficial business, I'd say you'd pass for a Bajoran in that attire."

"And you look very Maquis...again," Tor replied succinctly. He seemed to have thawed a little at B'Elanna's attempts at conversation. "I know you have been feeling uncomfortable in a Starfleet uniform..."

"Yeah, I did. The first few days. I kept scratching my neck! But Starfleet tends to grow on you..."

"I know," Tor replied with heartfelt warmth. "I know. I've wanted to be at Starfleet Academy since James - "

"James Hamilton?"

"Yeah. We were neighbours on Earth where I lived with my foster parents."

"I...understand."

"Well, I've always wanted to be in a Starfleet uniform."

"Good, Starfleet. I'm dying to be introduced to your mother. If she's as dour as you - "

Tor stopped dead in his tracks, pulled B'Elanna roughly by her arm and faced her boldly, his lips thin from ill-repressed anger.

"Perhaps you don't know, since I've not wanted this to be common knowledge, Torres. My mother is the mistress of Gul Gorek, a very, very  unpleasant Cardassian."

"Hey, Starfleet," B'Elanna responded, pushing his hands away from her, "I'm...sorry."

"She was a slave, Torres. She did not choose to be his mistress. I - I have two younger brothers, fathered by Gul Gorek."

"Kahless!" B'Elanna Torres dropped her gaze, chastised by the quiet dignity of the young Bajoran pilot. "Forgive me, I wasn't thinking."

"Thank you," replied Tor, noting the penitent look in B'Elanna's eyes. B'Elanna was half-Klingon, half-human, and he had thought she would understand the pain of duality in being a hybrid. His brothers had been spawned by a slave master, a ruthless man who had no need of them. Tor gave a resigned sigh and continued walking in silence, B'Elanna managing deftly to match his quickened pace.

They approached a house near the end of a lane. The road had been resurfaced in keeping with other rehabilitation efforts, years after the Cardassians had ravaged the planet. The bitterness rose in him and spread through his body like an amoeboid creature spreading its tentacles, bleeding into every pore in his body. He remembered the old Cardassian-Klingon woman who held on to him while they dragged his protesting mother from him. He had been ten years old and he had known fear, the kind that made him petrified. There had been no screams coming from him,  and Karan Ardra's last words to him that day had been, "Go well, my son..."

Old Kor’ena, bastard child of a Klingon mother and Cardassian father had duped the Cardassians, who’d expected her to take him to the orphan colony on Cardassia Prime, as she did all orphans, whether they were Bajoran or Cardassian.  However, instead she had secretly sent the terrified boy with the daughter of an old friend to Deep Space Nine, and from there to Earth.

Tor shook the thoughts from him, breathing in deeply as he stood in front of the house that once belonged to his late father. The calm settled inside him again and when he looked at B'Elanna, he gave a little tight smile.

"We're here."

***  

B'Elanna Torres couldn't stop looking at Karan Ardra as she invited them to step inside her home. The woman was tall and painfully thin, though her face exuded a serenity that stunned the half-Klingon engineer. She could not be more than forty five years old, yet she appeared younger. Tor's mother was beautiful and it was a beauty that had become even more serene in the face of suffering. B'Elanna blinked once, twice, and then kept staring even as she heard Tor's voice coming through a haze at her.

"Greetings, Mother," Tor said softly, giving what B'Elanna thought was a half bow, but so full of respect that she too, inclined her head. When Ardra looked at her, Tor offered, "This is B'Elanna Torres, a fellow crewmember on Voyager..."

"You are Klingon?" Karan Ardra asked.

"Half-Klingon, half-human," B'Elanna offered, without the usual derision that tinged her voice every time someone was curious about her race. Karan Ardra nodded, the look in her eyes not so much compassionate as understanding. B'Elanna was glad. She could bear understanding, or just plain acceptance without being dismissive, but she couldn't stand anyone being compassionate. There was a time she had loved her mother, and for a long time she loved her father. She bore the instinctive pride and honour of the Klingons and she was proud. Just sometimes... All her outbursts...it was always easier to blame it on her Klingon side. She heard a cough and realised Ardra and Tor were looking pointedly at her. B'Elanna gave a  sheepish grin.

Ardra took B'Elanna's hand and drew her closer.

"I'm glad that you came with Tor, B'Elanna Torres. There is someone who is waiting for you both..."

B'Elanna thought Karan Ardra sounded enigmatic, but nodded nonetheless. She was on this mission because Captain Janeway had briefed her. Karan Tor might be a brilliant pilot, although not as good as Tom Paris, but she was needed to assist him as well as guard his back.

"It is why I have accompanied you, Tor - " she'd said when they embarked on this away mission.

"Mother, I do not see my brothers here," Tor cut in, realising belatedly that the house was devoid of childish sounds.

Karan Ardra's dark eyes sombered; a frown marred her beautiful features. A sigh escaped her and for a moment B'Elanna thought that she wasn't going to respond to her son.

"They have been taken away from here, Tor. Their father - "

"What has he done with them?

"You know that I have lived on Cardassia Prime..." Tor gave a nod, and B'Elanna's heart quickened. She had an idea why they had been removed from the mother.  "It was shameful  to be seen with slave children who were bi-racial," Ardra continued.

"Where are they, Mother?"

"I do not know, son."

"A Cardassian orphan camp?"

B'Elanna knew there were several of those camps on planets dotted along the Cardassian borders. Most likely, the children were dead by now...

"Come," she said, not replying to her son's question. B'Elanna thought the woman was suffering, but showing no signs of it. She was very enigmatic when she commanded they accompany her.  

As they followed her through the house B'Elanna's attention was drawn to the various artefacts gracing the walls and small stands, mostly Bajoran, she presumed. They exited through a back entrance. She was surprised. From the front view of the house, they couldn't see that the back extended to the next road. From time to time as they walked, Ardra looked furtively around her, but Tor and B'Elanna looked at the cosmopolitan blend of people with interest. There was no Cardassian presence here; they were so caught up in the war that Bajor was expendable to them. It had been expendable for a long time, and their interest no longer focused on this barren homeworld that only in the last months was showing signs of rehabilitation. Some gave them curious stares, but it was no more than normal. After they had passed a few Klingons, B'Elanna realised suddenly they were all very old. She shrugged. Even Kronos had joined the fray and they were never sensitive about selecting only their most able bodied warriors. These Klingons had all served their duties as warriors, but, B'Elanna supposed they were usefully occupied on Bajor. They had expertise the Bajorans needed. It was as simple as that. Bajor was not ready as a holiday destination...

Some twenty minutes later they approached a small abode. Ardra paused, turning to look at B'Elanna and her son. Again, B'Elanna was struck by the serenity that exuded from the older woman.

"I received a communication from Captain Janeway a month ago..."

"Mother?"

Karan Tor clearly sounded surprised and B'Elanna lifted an eyebrow. Captain Janeway hadn't told them about it, but B'Elanna had heard from Tom Paris and Dalby that a few years ago, the Captain, who had then been the first officer of the Crimond, had come to Bajor to conduct interviews with people here. Now she wondered about it. There were still too many pieces of the puzzle missing, and the whereabouts of the Captain's niece was a major piece. Perhaps, this was just another clue leading them to Winonah.

"Do not ask too many questions, Tor," his mother chided gently. "You know what happened before - "

"What happened before?" B'Elanna asked, her curiosity piqued.

Tor gave a sigh and a blush crept to his cheeks.

"Communication between my mother and myself while I was still a cadet - it was innocuous information- led the Cardassians to Commander Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway. Because of that the Captain and her husband separated..."

B'Elanna gasped softly. She had always sensed that Chakotay had no love for Cardassians, that it was more than just the destruction of his homeworld. He had a personal vendetta with them. Although Chakotay never spoke about it and Ken Dalby remained close-mouthed about what he knew, the Cardassians were responsible for Chakotay's personal misery and the break-up of his marriage. Seska... B'Elanna shook her head. They used innocent youngsters, like Karan Tor had been.

"So that's why..."

"Yes, that's why. I have felt responsible. No one told me to my face, Torres. Indeed, the Captain has always been excessively fair. There is no blame. I was just a young and inexperienced cadet talking to my mother on Bajor. I had no idea..."

"Don't worry, Tor. I don't think anyone is blaming you. It's you blaming yourself. I don't think Chakotay would appreciate you beating yourself up over this..."

"Torres! You don't understand. Everything that has happened - "

"Hey, Starfleet, take it easy," B'Elanna said as she nodded to Ardra. "No one can control destiny..."

When Ardra pressed her hand against the panel and the door sprung open, Tor was momentarily diverted from his self-castigation and B'Elanna sighed with relief. They entered a dark passage, although they could all see well enough. The first thing B'Elanna noticed as they entered what she presumed was the lounge of the house, was a bat-leth hanging on a bracket.

"Who lives here?" she asked.

"Please," Ardra said she moved through the lounge to a door that led off it. A short lobby, with another door and Ardra paused. She turned to face B'Elanna and Tor.

"She will tell you what you need to know. Tor, your brothers..." The words came as a strained whisper from her and B'Elanna could see the pain in Ardra's eyes. She must miss her children, came the thought to her. Before they could respond to her words, the door opened and they entered quietly.

Their eyes were immediately drawn to a man lying on a large bed. B'Elanna saw instantly that he must be part Klingon and part Cardassian. His lips were parched and parted; he was clearly struggling to breathe. There was a sallow look to his features. The ridges were Klingon, and B'Elanna thought that if he were dying, he must have only one set of his vital organs, a legacy of his Cardassian heritage. A second heart, liver and pair of lungs might have increased his chances at fighting to keep alive. Then, on the other hand, who knew? The patient had long unruly hair brushed away from his face and through the weak light of early evening, there was a  strange glow about him, as if he in fact did possess an inner resilience to fight.  

B'Elanna was also aware of the candles dotted around the darkened room, their flickering flames throwing shadows on the walls. She felt Tor nudging her forward and as she looked at the Bajoran pilot, B'Elanna realised that he must have stumbled, or given an unsure step, maybe at the sight of the sick man. Tor's gaze was riveted on the patient who looked no more than perhaps thirty years.

A woman sat in a chair next to the bed. A Klingon woman whose mane of hair - once burnished bronze, now streaked liberally with grey - fanned over her shoulders. Her eyes were closed but as they approached, she opened them and fixed her gaze first on Ardra.

"Greetings, Karan Ardra," she said unsmilingly, not rising from her chair. Her voice was raspy, yet strong, still possessing power, B'Elanna thought. A bony hand gestured they come forward. The woman's ridges were coarse, very pronounced, but her eyes were still alert and glowing warmly. She looked at B'Elanna, the recognition of race dawning in her eyes. But it was Karan Ardra who broke the tiny silence that ensued in the moments B'Elanna and the old woman sized one another up.

"Kor'ena, you know my son Tor." Kor'ena nodded as Tor gave a slight bow. When her eyes rested on B'Elanna, Ardra continued, "And this is B'Elanna Torres."

"Greetings, B'Elanna Torres. You are not full Klingon... Like my son..."

"No," B'Elanna said with firmness, "I'm half-human. My mother is Klingon."

Kor'ena nodded again, and B'Elanna gained the impression that Kor'ena just accepted her origin as natural, just the way she wanted: no sentiments, no sympathies and no pity. She thought Kor'ena was proud that she carried herself so well. Good thing they didn't know about her struggles for acceptance, her own struggle just to look at herself in the mirror and like her for herself. That was a long, miserable road. It was only Chakotay... B'Elanna gave a sigh as she was reminded of their mission. She looked at Tor, who looked at his mother and Kor'ena in turn. Then Karan Ardra spoke in soft, firm tones.

"I informed Captain Janeway that a young warrior of Cardassian-Klingon birth had been injured during one of the battles. He was serving on the Vetar..."

"T-The Vetar? Gul Evek's vessel?"

"My son was more Klingon than Cardassian, B'Elanna Torres, but his father desired he become a gul one day..."

"I've never seen him before," Tor said reflectively.

"He was already prepared for training by the time your mother got you to safety - "

"Through you..." Tor said in awe. "You have sacrificed much, Kor'ena Landral."

"I was a warrior like my mother and father before me," she responded quickly, making B'Elanna smile at the unconscious proud bearing of Kor'ena's stature as she straightened in her chair. She gazed unflinchingly at Tor.

"I thank you, Kor'ena."

"No need to thank me. Your mother has intelligence of the Vetar..."

"Xandor was on the Vetar the day the Cardassians attacked Dorvan V, Captain Chakotay's homeworld."

"He might know..." B'Elanna said as she caught on quickly the meaning behind Ardra's words.

"He - he has been injured severely. He may not live, so he was sent back here."

"To die." Kor'ena's words were emotionless. She was expecting his death so that she could commit his body to Sto-vo-kor. B'Elanna nodded her understanding.

"We will leave you two with the patient. I see he is about to open his eyes..." Karan Ardra said, holding her hand to her old friend. Kor'ena rose heavily to her feet, and when her hand that had been clasped around that of her son, released him, they both noted that his hand was still balled into a fist, as if he held something very precious in it and desired no one else see it.

The door closed softly behind them.

B'Elanna seated herself quickly in the chair vacated by Kor'ena. She could finally understand why it was necessary that she and Tor make the journey to Bajor on their own. Voyager was currently engaged in heavy battles, and while Joe Carey - her lips curled derisively at the thought of the Chief Engineer - was super efficient in Engineering, she could be spared. Now that she saw the objective of their mission involved a dying half-Klingon male, it made some sense, though B'Elanna also speculated that Voyager simply couldn't make a major detour in the time allotted her. She knew that Captain Janeway had been given special dispensation to track down her niece, and narrowing down the possibilities in the shortest amount of time was critical to her strategy. They had to go in, and get out as fast as they could. For that they had to know the exact coordinates to make a hasty rescue and then head for Earth.

The first weeks after Xandor had been deposited at his home on Bajor, they had not known what information he carried. Yet, Karan Ardra, knowing that he served on the Vetar, had understood that interrogating him would reap results. Good results. B'Elanna hoped fervently that he could help. If not, she'd have to hypospray him to semi-consciousness and whip the information out of him. He knew something, that was certain. The way his hand kept clamping, relaxing, clamping around whatever object lay in his palm, told her as much. Tor suspected the same as she saw him watch how Xandor's hand moved. She held her breath as Xandor's lips began to move.

"This...this is for Captain...Janeway..." he croaked. Xandor opened his hand, the fingers slowly easing away from their grip. B'Elanna glanced quickly at Tor, who had seated himself on the other side of the bed. Tor frowned. On Xandor's palm lay exposed a gold chain with a locket.

"Where did you get it?" B'Elanna asked softly. Xandor turned to face her, a slow turn of the head to the direction of the voice. He stared long at B'Elanna.

"You...you are Klingon..."

"I am," she responded, and raised her hand only slightly to curb Tor's urge to correct Xandor. "Yes, I am Klingon."

Xandor's eyes closed, then opened again.

"Take it," he said and waited until B'Elanna had taken the locket from him and opened it. "I - I found the little girl - "

"Winonah?"

"That is her name...yes. I found it lying next to her."

"Then you know what happened to Winonah?" B'Elanna asked, her heart racing; Chakotay's absolute conviction that his niece was still alive somewhere was being confirmed. "Are these her parents in the pictures, Xandor...?" 

"I - I thought the mother looked familiar."

"She has Chakotay's looks..." B'Elanna said reflectively as she studied the small image of Chakotay's sister.

"Where is the child, Xandor?" Tor asked, leaning over to touch Xandor's hand.

Xandor looked at him with eyes that burned, eyes that looked into the portals of death. When Xandor turned slowly to face B'Elanna, he gave a groan of pain and breathed erratically for a few seconds. When at length the breathing subsided to an even rhythm, he reached to touch B'Elanna's hand.

"I swear by Kahless, I never touched any woman..."

" _You_ were the dissident on board the Vetar?" B'Elanna asked.

Captain Janeway had informed her that their contact crewed on the Vetar, that he might have knowledge of Winonah's disappearance. Her latest update on the Vetar's crew complement furnished by Ken Dalby, showed no presence of one Xandor Landral. Only when she matched the Vetar’s current status with those in the crew at the time Chakotay had been on board with Sedeka could she determine that the missing person was languishing somewhere on Bajor... 

"Yes, I had no part in the shameful deeds committed by the Cardassian warriors. I am Klingon. You must understand the ways of the Klingon."

"I understand, Xandor."

"It is a dishonour. I - I had of necessity - "

"Defend yourself only when the men attacked you?"

"Yes. But the warriors...they had no honour. No honour. I saw them rip the mother away from the child, let the child watch. There were many warriors...many who violated this - this child's mother..."

"I understand that you felt helpless."

"One of the men grabbed the child and ripped her clothes from her..."

"Kahless..."

"So I pulled the child from him...told him I wanted...her...for...myself..." There was a long pause in which Xandor struggled to breathe. Then he gasped again, "I took the child and hid her in my cabin until I could get off the Vetar."

"Where did you take her?" Tor asked, his voice trembling with anticipation.

"I placed her with a kind woman on Kronos - "

"Kronos!"

Xandor expelled a loud groan.

"The woman - it was her special task. I was assured she would be transported when it was safe to - to Kodari."

"But - but that's in No-man's-land!" Tor cried out suddenly.

"She's there, with this other person?" B'Elanna asked quickly.

"Not all Cardassians were happy with what their people did..."  Xandor looked pointedly at B'Elanna and she realised that she hadn't introduced herself. She fingered the locket and chain tenderly.

 "My name is B'Elanna Torres - "

"Torres? That was the name of the woman who - who helped us on Kronos. Do you know her?"

"My mother..." B'Elanna responded, awed by the knowledge that her mother was on Kronos, overseeing the safety of refugees.

"She is a good woman. B'Elanna... It is a good name. A Klingon name."

"Thank you."

"The little girl was frightened. I thought all her family had been wiped out. But you say - you say..."

Xandor looked at them with eyes that were pathetic in their pleading. B'Elanna felt the heat crawling like snakes through her body. It was evident that Xandor, believing that Winonah had no family, sent her to Kodari where she could rebuild her life. He had no idea that she had a remaining relative; he had no idea that people were looking for the child. All the time, they were chasing hopeless leads...  Still, Xandor had had no way of knowing that Chakotay was related to the child, and his only desire now was to see Winonah in the custody of people from Earth.

"She has relatives, Xandor," B'Elanna said soberly.

"She will be well cared for with her own people, you must understand." Tor had been holding Xandor's hand again and when Xandor turned to face him, it was with eyes filled with sorrow.

"You have two brothers, Karan Tor."

"Yes."

"They are on Kodari..."

"Kahless!" B'Elanna sucked in her breath, wondering why it was that Karan Ardra hadn't known, since Xandor Landral was on Bajor at least two weeks. Could he have been in a state of semi-consciousness or unconscious all this time?

"I spent the last months trying to - to save children..."

"My mother will be happy, Xandor."

"That is why I have been injured. I had to fight. The children were in a labour colony. I managed to get them out. They are safe, Karan Tor."

The two women returned and Kor'ena took her place by her son's side. B'Elanna stationed herself at the foot of the bed. Kor'ena appeared impassive, as if she knew that Xandor was about to take a final breath. She leaned forward and  touched his forehead, her finger resting over the ridges and her eyes closed.

Tor grasped his mother's hand and squeezed it. There was joy and sadness in the touch, but it seemed that Karan Ardra rested her faith in her eldest son. Her children would be returned to her. She knew now that they were safe. Tor's look had given her that assurance. She sighed deeply, relief that only now was allowed to flood through her.

"Mother..." Xandor's voice was heavy, "grieve not, for I shall be happy..."

"I know, my son."

"B'Elanna Torres, this is my message to Captain Janeway of Voyager: I...tried...my...best..."

There was a pause, then Xandor's eyes closed.

"Commit me to Sto-vo-kor..."

*******************************

**END CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR**

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, the planet Kodari...

* * *

**December 2371 - Sector 987**

Kodari was the eleventh planet of the Kandor Star System, close to the perimeter of the Delta Quadrant. Between this system and the last outpost of the Alpha Quadrant, the Domar Dwarf Star System in Sector 599, lay several hostile sectors. Hostile, since many vessels that ventured into No-man's-land, as this area of space was called, were lost or destroyed, becoming drifting derelicts of space, available for roving bands of scavengers to strip down without the fear of being apprehended. Through these sectors many vessels carrying refugees braved the dangers to deposit their valuable cargo on Kodari.

Most refugees were Cardassians discontented with the war, men and women who were branded as dissidents, but who were mostly pacifists, from the outset not agreeing with what their Union was doing. They could not accept the dictum that forceful subjugation ensured loyalty and extended the empire of the Cardassian Union, although they conceded that their own world was collapsing from ever decreasing natural resources. They, along with Klingons, Romulans, K'tarians and many smaller groups from other homeworlds that had come under the siege of the Cardassians, made their home on Kodari.

Formerly uninhabited, Kodari was not the most hospitable of planets. Its highest  recorded temperatures ranged between 45°C and 50°C. It was marked by continual dry weather, sandstorms that occurred once in every lunar cycle, and occasionally, a plasma storm. The planet's water source - the main reason the settlers selected this planet - was an underground system of rivers that ran from its equator to the northern and southern hemispheres and which could be reached through subterranean caves and potholes. Many settlers used their expertise in various fields to make the world habitable, developing irrigation systems and terraforming large tracts of land all over the two hemispheres so that the planet could yield the food they needed for consumption. From the derelicts that drifted just outside their star system, as well as those not already stripped down for parts by the scavengers, they could get valuable items such as replicators. One group of Kodari, as they now called themselves, who were trained pilots and engineers, even travelled to the war zones to remove any equipment they could find from Federation vessels destroyed during battles.   They took anything they could find that would help improve conditions on their own ‘New World’, and make it a better place for all those tired of fighting, as well as displaced peoples from conquered worlds and orphans of war. 

Already, a new generation of children were being raised on Kodari. Many were Cardassian and Bajoran orphans, as well as many orphans who were born of Cardassian-Bajoran liaisons, some rejected when one of the parents were killed, or the Bajoran mothers who were slave mistresses of Cardassian men, were killed or died of their privations in labour camps.

Penytt Sarra was a Cardassian woman who had come to Kodari with the first groups of settlers. Several children were placed with her as an interim caregiver, before being permanently settled with sets of  parents or single parents who took the children into their homes and raised them as their own. Penytt lived in the Kodar Alpha settlement, which enjoyed the yields of terraforming, was close to water sources and which was scheduled to become the first city of the Kodari. Her abode was small, but cool on the inside. She boasted a replicator and a few other luxuries, being one of the first persons to have made her home on Kodari.

Although Penytt Sarra could mingle with neighbours close by, she was a lonely woman who presently cared for only one child of about six years old. On this particular day, the child exited the house.

"You must not venture too far in the sun," Penytt Sarra said as the dark haired little girl walked away from the abode towards a small outcrop in the distance. "You will make yourself ill again..."

Penytt watched as the child turned to look at her. Her eyes were dark and hollow, a haunted look in them. Penytt sighed. In six months she had not been able to reach into the child's heart and her efforts to dispel the darkness had given her moments of extreme disappointment. The girl's pause was only long enough so that she could give Penytt a penetrating look. Penytt moved just outside the door of the abode. She felt the heat and sweat were too cloying to stand long outside. Today, the temperatures had risen to 47°C, and while Penytt could endure the privation of extreme heat under normal circumstances, this planet with its sandstorms and dry conditions made living difficult, although it would have been worse without the cool underground caverns and rivers.

"Be careful..." she added to her concerned injunction.

The child nodded, or that was what Penytt imagined she did. Penytt thought her look was one that said, "I will be alright." Then she turned on her heel and ran off to the low hill. Penytt watched as she disappeared into the distance, her short legs carrying her fast over the hard, dry, dusty ground. She did not look back once.

"Please..." Penytt whispered to herself.  She crossed her hands over her bosom as if in prayer. "Please..."

Then Penytt retreated just inside the doorway, although the sun beat down into the short lobby that led to the rest of the house. Leaning against the jamb, Penytt Sarra stared out in the direction the child had moved towards. She made a low sound as she shook her head.

She had lost five sons in the War; when she’d heard of this place of refuge, she had wasted no time in making a new home here. The Union had shrugged off her entreaties as the miserable objections of a woman who should know that anyone dying during the war was a casualty; it could not be helped. Thank you, they said, for  your sons who fought in the name of Cardassia Prime and sacrificed their lives for the cause.

What cause? The mindless murder of millions?

Penytt had been bitter, her heart empty and inconsolable at the loss of her children. She knew no one, except Kor'ena Landral who had been married to a Cardassian gul called Deren, and Miral Torres, and they were Klingons. Most of her own race had elected to stay on Cardassia Prime. Miral Torres knew Nadr Bok, who helped to relocate displaced Cardassian and Bajoran orphans; sometimes they found survivors of other decimated homeworlds - Bolians, Oranians, K'tarians. From Dorvan V they brought to her the only survivor of the massacre on that homeworld.

That the survivor was only a child, human, brought to her six months after Dorvan V was wiped out, was still a mystery. No one had known about her except Gul Evek and the crew of the Vetar, who certainly weren’t going to divulge any information. Secretly, Penytt Sarra thought that no one on the Vetar had known a child was smuggled on to the the ship by Xandor Landral, son of Kor'ena Landral. Xandor Landral, half Cardassian, half Klingon had more nobility in him than all the people of Cardassia Prime when  he saved only one child from that massacre...

Eventually, Xandor was caught transporting yet another group of children, and was tortured and beaten as punishment.  Penytt had no idea if he’d survived. Still, she doubted that he had divulged any information about the child. The Cardassians, suspecting what he had done, but unable to prove the existence of a survivor on the Vetar, felt humiliated by having their defences and ultra-strict security breached by a Cardassian-Klingon hybrid. Yes, she had no doubt that Xandor Landral had been tortured and his wasted body despatched to his mother when they couldn't kill him outright. Penytt Sarra wondered idly why they hadn’t killed Landral summarily, although she suspected that was because his father was Cardassian and still on active service somewhere in the war zone.

Penytt Sarra sighed. Her own people... what they did turned her even more against them. Penytt had lost five sons; still, children orphaned by the war outnumbered parents who outlived their children. Which would be worse for her if she weighed options?

Winonah - the only human child on Kodari – had lost all her family and it did not matter that she, Penytt Sarra, gave the child the best possible treatment borne of her own losses and her naturally sympathetic nature. Her heart had gone out to the lonely child. Yet, there was in Penytt a conviction that children overcame their adversity and could live meaningful lives eventually. It was still possible that one day Winonah could marry and have children of her own.

What did Penytt Sarra have? Her own children were gone. Her husband was gone. She had no history, and whatever history might have continued for another twenty generations, had stopped when her sons died. There was no one to carry the name of Sarra, no heroic deeds, no legends, no myths, nothing. The genealogy of Penytt Sarra had stopped abruptly. The only light in her life was caring for children on whom she showered all her affection. Many of those in her care were eventually placed with parents who joyfully added to their own families, or with those who’d lost their children in war as Penytt Sarra had. It was a sound arrangement and no child was left without someone to care for her or him. The children grew up as the second generation of Kodari, and were mostly well-adjusted. They were undisturbed by war and the extreme privation that slavery engendered, and could blossom the way children should, according to the elders of Kodari.

Penytt Sarra was a member of the Council responsible for placing children who were brought to Kodari. While all the children in her care went to others, she had grown particularly close to the last group. She knew, and had made many parents aware, possibly one day, the children would be claimed by their real parents.

Now, even the boys she cared for no longer resided with her. All she had was a child placed in her care after the boys had left. Now, she cared for a child in whose eyes Penytt could see the fear, trauma, the same longing and hollowness. The haunted look remained in Winonah's eyes. When she had taken the child into her home, Winonah had already lived for almost six months with other caregivers who told her that the child had cried without ceasing in the first months.

They told her the child's name was Winonah.

They also told her that Winonah could not speak. It was as if her tongue had been cut out of her mouth.

Winonah was a human child, the only human to live on Kodari, though Penytt Sarra heard that there were some on their way from the Demilitarised Zone. The child was pretty, Penytt Sarra supposed, for a human. Winonah's hair had grown long and the one time Penytt had tried to cut her hair, she had gone into hoarse hysterics - a wordless struggle against the older woman. Since then, Penytt had not troubled the child about her hair, although she made certain that Winonah's it was always clean, washed, shiny. Winonah's eyes were dark, and sometimes, standing close to the child, Penytt Sarra could see not so much a clear brown, but a liquid golden colour. Many times she wondered whom the child resembled, or who her parents were. All she knew was that Winonah had seen her parents die, had been torn from her mother's arms and experienced shock so great that it impeded her speech.

Winonah never talked. It had been a year.

Penytt tried, and gained some measure of success. She could understand that the shock of seeing her parents die, could render a child of five years completely mute. Where her previous caregiver had been impatient, trying to get the child to make some sound other than her hopeless crying in the dead of night, Penytt Sarra had not pressured her or provoked her into talking. She knew that someday, perhaps, some shock or just a natural resilience to life would restore Winonah's speech. For now, Penytt worked around that and with some kind of signing, managed to communicate, or, to understand Winonah.

Winonah spend most of her days running off to the outcrop behind which there was a set of small subterranean caves where she played. Penytt sometimes went there, just to keep an unobtrusive eye on the child. Once, she had seen Winonah sit on a flat little rock next to a stream, and the child's lips move in a stirring prayer. Penytt believed it was a prayer, for Winonah's eyes were closed, and she was hardly aware of the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

Many times during the night Penytt would wake up, hearing the hoarse breathing and gasping coming from the small room that was Winonah's. Then she knew that the girl  was in the throes of a nightmare. The first few times when Penytt wanted to comfort Winonah, the child had gone into hysterics when Penytt approached her, and then she  knew that it was her Cardassian features that frightened the child so. How could it not be? Winonah had seen Cardassians kill all the members of her family.

Penytt Sarra sighed. It was time for Winonah to return for her evening meal. Tomorrow was school and discovering that Winonah possessed an inquiring mind - she had caught the child at her computer, trying to decipher Cardassian script - thought that she could just sit in the class and observe. How the other children would view Winonah's presence was unknown, but Penytt Sarra believed that Winonah would weather this storm too.

She walked the distance to the outcrop and made her way from there to the small system of caverns where she knew Winonah had escaped to. One day, Penytt Sarra thought, Winonah might find her voice, and might even find some happiness again.

*************************

Winonah sat on a small flat rock close to the edge of the river and swung her feet in the cool water. She liked to come here every day when the sun turned red and night spread a blanket over the land. It was very hot every day but she had become used to the heat. Here in the caverns, it was cooler and she could never keep refraining from putting her feet in the water. Yes, she liked it here. It was quiet then and she could imagine hearing eagles' cries, or the sound of children, or even the voices of her ancestors. Here she could imagine she was wearing the fallen feather of an eagle in her hair and pretend that she was sitting with her grandfather outside the _Habak_. Sometimes, she liked to pretend that her mother was speaking with her. Then, picturing the kind face of her mother, seeing her wise eyes and gentle smile, made her heart flutter.

"Winonah, one day, you will go to the Academy, just like your Uncle Chakotay and Aunt Kathryn..."

She could hear her mother's voice as if her she stood in the doorway of the house and not Penytt Sarra.

Aunt Kathryn...

Always, she wondered about Aunt Kathryn, and what she was doing.

Winonah wrung her hands together and tried to make a sound.

_Mama...Aunt Kathryn..._

Only her lips moved.

_Mama...Mama...Mama..._

Why could she not speak? No one told her why she could not speak, but she knew that she’d stopped on the day a warrior pulled her away from her dead Mama and took her with him.

Winonah felt the tightness in her chest again; she couldn't breathe. Her mind whirled, as images came to her. Men who looked like Penytt Sarra ripping her from her mother's arms. Papa running to help.

Papa's screams... Mama's screams... long, like the eagles' never-ending cries in the heavens.

_No...no..._

Winonah tried to scream, but it was only her lips that moved.

_You must always think of your Aunt Kathryn, little bird._

They were her mother's words. Her mother's kind words and kind voice when Winonah asked again when her Aunt Kathryn would visit them. Her Mama told her that she had to be patient, and that thinking of Aunt Kathryn all the time would make the longing less. Mama said that whenever she had pain and bad dreams, she had to think of her Aunt Kathryn.

_For one day, you shall be on Earth..._

Winonah felt the tightness in her chest ease little by little until she could breathe again.

When she was in her bed, she would dream of her mother and father, and Grandfather Kolopak and Grandma Hannah. She would see their faces, always smiling, and many times she would see how Grandfather Kolopak would lift her high in his arms, and then he would hug her to him.

"See, little Winonah? I will never let you fall."

"And Grandfather, when I grow up, will I go to Earth?"

Kolopak would look at her, and she would see how his face creased and looked just like her Uncle Chakotay. She  would cup his cheeks and kiss him.

"Yes, little one, you will go to Earth. It is your destiny..."

"My destiny? What is that, Grandfather?"

Grandfather Kolopak had given her a long look, one that reminded Winonah of the eagle she had seen one day perching on a dry wooden stump. The eagle had looked at her as if it were a long dagger that cut right through her, but did not hurt her. She had not been afraid of the eagle that day, just as she was not afraid of the look in her grandfather's eyes.

"It is what is meant to be, little one. One day, you will understand."

"What is meant to be..."

"Yes, little one. Now, go to your Mama. I see she is waiting for you..."

Kolopak had put her down as she saw Sekaya waving at her. There was a gentle smile on her mother's face.

_Mama..._

Winonah shook her head and looked into the water. Leaning over, she could see her reflection, although the ripples distorted the image a little.’ She sat perfectly still, not moving her feet. Her hair had grown long. The lady Penytt made sure she brushed it every day. It fell forward and the long, sleek black strands felt soft as she ran her hands through it. She wanted her hair to look like the golden corn on Dorvan V, or the way Aunt Kathryn's hair looked. It always looked like the sun came out of it.

_A-u-n-t- K-a-t-h-r-y-n..._

Winonah saw her lips move, but no sound issued from them. Her voice had stopped when the big warrior took her away and took her to his ship. She was afraid, but he had been kind to her, not like the other bad men who hurt them. The warrior did not look like the others, but that day she had been afraid of him. When one of the other men grabbed her, Xandor had ripped her away from him.

"No, Grodek, this little one is mine. I'll have her for myself."

She’d screamed as loud as she could for her Mama and her Papa, but Xandor had run round the back of the house where there was no one.

"Shhh... not a sound from you. My name is Xandor. I'll not hurt you. I'm taking you away."

She had been so afraid and wanted to scream again; only then, something happened. It felt as if all the clouds in the sky came down on her and it was dark, so dark; when she opened her eyes, she was in a strange place. It was then that she found she could not make any sound.

"Little girl, what is wrong? Can you not speak?"

She felt many tears roll down her cheeks as she nodded to him. Xandor had hidden her in his cabin. She cried every day and he had come in the evenings and dried her tears. He would tell her not to make too much noise, although he made sure no one could hear there was another person in his room.

On the first day in his cabin he had shown her the locket and her eyes had lit up. She did not know it had fallen off. Maybe, she thought, it was when she had struggled and screamed so when the men grabbed her away from her mother. Winonah could not think clearly anymore about how it happened. She just knew that she was so afraid. Aunt Kathryn had given her the locket and her Mama had put a picture of herself and of Papa in it.

"See? It is the shape of a heart, Winonah," her mama told her. "Aunt Kathryn says you lie very close to her heart..." Winonah had not understood much then, but just knowing only that it meant Aunt Kathryn loved her because when she sat on Kathryn's lap, she wanted to rest her head against her softness and it felt like when she sat on her Mama's lap.  

Xandor held the heart locket to her.

"Here, let me put this on for you..." Xandor said.

She’d shied away from Xandor, even though she couldn’t tell him about Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Chakotay, who, she knew, would come for her one day. Xandor had thought she was afraid of him, but she was not. The locket with its shiny gold chain had lain on his palm and Xandor had looked at her with a frown.

"I will not hurt you, little girl."

_I know you will not hurt me, Xandor..._

"Do you understand me?" he asked.

Winonah had nodded her head.

"That is good. Here, don't you want me to put this on for you?"

She shook her head again and then she had walked up to him, for he had gone down on his knees so his eyes were level with hers. She closed his hand around the locket and pressed his hand against his chest.

_Give it to my Aunt Kathryn..._

And although no sound came from her, it seemed that Xandor had understood that he had to give the locket to someone.

"I understand now, little Winonah."

Her eyes had widened when he said her name. How did he know her name was Winonah?

"Your mother called out your name, Winonah," he said, as if he just knew what her question was. "She called many times..."

Winonah had seen how Xandor's eyes became even darker than her own and he looked very sad.

"You want me to give this to someone who knows who you are."

She nodded.

She could not say the name and it hadn’t occurred to her that she could write down the name for Xandor. She had waited for her Aunt Kathryn but she’d never come. Even when she lived on a strange world called Kronos, they all thought that everyone she knew had died, and so they never asked. After a while she could not make any more effort to try and speak, because her throat got so sore. Then she became sick many times and thought that Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Chakotay were dead anyway.

A warm tear rolled down Winonah's cheek and joined the water of the river. She thought about how many tears had fallen in the river. She was certain that Aunt Kathryn would not come anymore. She was lonely...lonely...

_Please come..._

Only the silence in the cave answered her.

At last, she sat back and drew her feet out of the water. The cavern was not too dark, because light from outside shone at the entrance.

The day was becoming redder. Drawing up her knees, she  hugged them with her short arms and rested her head on them, wondering how the tears were going to stop falling.

"Winonah! Winonah?"

It was Penytt Sarra who entered the cave and Winonah lifted her head to look at the old woman.

"Come, you must eat, Winonah. Tomorrow, I take you to the new school..."

Winonah took the hand Penytt Sarra proffered and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Winonah bent quickly to put on the espadrilles Penytt had made for her. Then she stood up again and gave Penytt a tearful smile.

"You like school?"

Winonah nodded.

"Then it is good. You will meet other children..."

Together they walked, Penytt Sarra bending a little because she was very tall. Once outside, Penytt took Winonah's hand and walked over the dry, dusty ground to the abode. Just before they entered, Penytt paused.

"One day, I should like to see you smile, Winonah..."

***********************

_"Mama...Mama..."_

There were many soldiers. The houses were burning and the smoke rose up...up...up and mingled with the blue sky, and the eagles screamed and the wolves howled. Everywhere she heard people screaming and she saw flashes of weapons and more screaming.

Then they came for her Papa. He fought against five men. They hit him a hundred times. On and on. Papa could not move, but still they beat him and Mama... Mama kept screaming.

_"Let my Mama go..."_

A warrior pulled her from her Mama. He drew a phaser and held it to her chest.

_"Let me give you something, little girl, before I kill you..."_

The warrior grabbed her and she screamed, over and over. He pulled at her clothing; something tore into her neck. It was her locket and chain. She screamed again. Then suddenly, she was pulled away from the warrior. She saw him fall...fall...fall... Then the other warrior picked up her chain as he scooped her up. She screamed again and pummelled his chest.

_"Let me go...Let me go..."_

_"Shhh... I will not hurt you..."_

_"Mama! Mama!"_

_"Mama is dead."_

Dead...Mama joined the sky spirits... Papa joined the sky spirits... Grandfather...? Grandma...?

She tried to scream...scream...scream...

Someone shook her. The storm clouds gathered and they whirled and whirled around her. Then, slowly, they stopped churning and drifted away. Winonah opened her eyes. She gasped, a sharp intake of breath. She saw the Cardassian warrior with evil eyes who tore at her clothing. Winonah  backed away from the comforting hands that pulled her closer to a warm bosom.

"It's me, Winonah. Penytt Sarra..." Winonah stared for a long time, until Penytt Sarra spoke again.

"Winonah...little one, you have been dreaming again..."

The room lightened and she could see Penytt's face; The old looked worried. There were tears in Penytt Sarra's eyes. Winonah gave a soft sob and threw herself in Penytt's arms, crying with soundless abandon.

 

******************

**No-man's Land**

Kathryn Janeway entered the turbolift on the bridge and ordered sick bay's deck. She smiled grimly. There were many repairs to be made after their stand-off with a Cardassian posse that had followed them halfway across six sectors. This time, they had back-up, and the Cardassian vessels were destroyed swiftly. It was time, she thought, that they created dents in the enemy's fire power. But it had come at a cost, as Tom had tried his best to outmanoeuvre the enemy vessels. Voyager had sustained damage and now, with B'Elanna, Ken Dalby and Joe Carey in Engineering effecting ship's repairs from that end, she felt that they had scored an important little victory. It meant that on their return via practically the same route, the field would be clear. Sector 987 lay in what the Federation called No-man's-land, an inhospitable area of space, with here and there hostile races, clannish about protecting their region of space. Now that they’d determined where the trouble spots were, it was easier to negotiate a route. Even so, they still had to be careful. How ships had arrived here to bring refugees to the Kandor Star System, Kathryn could but admire greatly. They had courage to hide themselves so deep in No-man's-land which, if it weren't for the absence of pernicious plasma storms, would have resembled the Badlands

She had long ago ruled out the heart of the Badlands as a possible place where Cardassian dissidents and refugees could make a home for themselves, although Chakotay and Ken Dalby had listed a few co-ordinates on the other side of the Badlands. Any Cardassian vessel would have been destroyed by the Maquis who ruled that area of space. Now, with the Maquis fighting alongside the Federation, it was easier, though many still found forgiving the Cardassians difficult.

B'Elanna had managed to curb her short fuse and agree on a kind of truce with Joe Carey. Kathryn sighed. She had to concede that the sometimes 'creative' solutions B'Elanna thought of and that were not listed in any Federation rule book, were at times the only solutions that at times helped Voyager. With B'Elanna's field expertise and Joe's ability to organise, they formed a good team.

They had already come to blows before, when B'Elanna broke Joe's nose. When they activated the EMH after Sergei had taken a few hours off, that doctor snorted and treated Joe with the disdain of the superlatively trained and programmed hologram that he was. The EMH had little sympathy for Joe and she recalled, sighing. He didn't let B'Elanna get off easily either. Kathryn hoped that the truce, uneasy as it was, could last long enough until the war ended and B'Elanna could return to the Academy, as she had once confided in Kathryn.

Ken Dalby, whom Kathryn also placed in Engineering, was put in charge of the Maquis contingent  to help them integrate as fully field commissioned crewman and officers of Voyager. Though he had a hard time getting them into line, he succeeded.

"I always think of how Chakotay would have dealt with a problem, Captain."

"Chakotay was known to use his fist sometimes, Dalby," she replied drily.

Dalby had looked a little embarrassed when word had come to her that Ayala 'kissed the turf' when he challenged Dalby. Ken had given her a broad grin and nodded affirmatively. Ken had no problem decking any of his Maquis crew. Already Ayala and Chell had run the gauntlet. Once, Dalby told her, "It's the language they understand.

She had great empathy with Chakotay's crew. Some of them had been transferred to other vessels and were reportedly doing quite well in the circumstances. For most of them , being in uniform was something foreign. B'Elanna and Tom were fine, although B'Elanna did often scratch at her collar in the beginning. But they had been Starfleet and knew the rules, the ropes. Young Gerron, the Bajoran boy, had in his interview with her, very shyly told her that he wanted to attend Starfleet Academy. She had seen the desire; it radiated from him and she had known that Chakotay had a great deal to do with Gerron's rehabilitation. Gerron had been an unwitting pawn when Seska had come on board the Liberty. Kathryn shivered at the thought. Dalby had told her, but not before she had virtually coerced him into telling her the details  of how Chakotay killed Seska.

"It was swift," Captain. "Chakotay was...how shall I say? Bloodless."

The other Maquis had never been to the Academy, although Dalby had been in Law Enforcement.

A month ago, Ken had studied the remaining locations with her and pinpointed the Kandor Star System as a likely spot. B'Elanna and Karan Tor had gone to Bajor and gained valuable evidence that they were on the right track. She had had an instinct that Karan Ardra knew something about a crewmember on board the Vetar who could give information about a - now - six year old little human girl. Her hunch had worked, and sending Tor and B'Elanna had been an inspiration. Tor needed to make contact with his mother and B'Elanna had gone because of Kor'ena Landral, a Klingon woman whose son was a hybrid like B'Elanna and who could not, according to reports from the two members of the away mission, live with accepting the Cardassian part of him. Still, it was Xandor Landral's honour and heroism that had saved Winonah's life.

She expelled a sigh again as she exited the turbolift and walked down the corridor to sick bay. If this failed... They were on their way to Kodari where Winonah was living. Once she brought the child home, Kathryn could find rest in the knowledge that at least this wish of Chakotay had been fulfilled.

_Failure is not an option. This has got to work..._

Kathryn Janeway entered the medical bay and was greeted by Sergei Karkoff, who had just finished with a patient He snapped the scanner back in the tricorder and nodded to the crewman who rose quickly from the bed, greeting Kathryn shyly before hastily making her way to the door. Sergei smiled as he approached Kathryn.

"I completed your physical a week ago. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"You know, Sergei, you were present at the birth of my daughter. You're my husband's best friend. I am your daughter's godmother. You're my friend. You can call me Kathryn."

It amazed her constantly. Sergei was such a stickler for protocol. He never called her by her name when they were on duty, yet they were good friends. Kathryn smiled at his slightly harried look. At the beginning of Voyager's journey she had always thought he was stressed, hence the look, but as she got to know him better under working conditions, she had come to realise he always looked like that, and it meant nothing. His hair was bright sandy-red and he had freckles which gave him a boyish appearance.

Sergei gave a sheepish grin. The sick bay was now empty, except for the Special Medical Assistant Iliana Madred, a Vulcan woman who looked impassive all the time and who was parked at the other end of sickbay at the console. Kathryn nodded to her and she had acknowledged Kathryn's greeting with barely an incline of the head.

"Well, Kathryn it is, even though I'm still on duty. I'm a stickler for rules - "

"You, Sergei? Good heavens! The things I've heard Chakotay say about your exploits on the Ormskirk - "

"They were legends, didn't you know?"

Kathryn laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. She had tried not to think of Hannah or Chakotay. Most of the time they had been so busy fighting enemy vessels that she had no time to lapse into morbid yearning. Still, her current mission was about to reap results, and Sergei was to be part of it.

"I refuse to take you lightly on that score, Sergei."

"So, to what to I owe this visit, Kathryn?"

"We're about to enter the Kandor Star System."

"I know. I understand," he said soberly.

"I want you on the away mission."

"You have finally gotten conclusive evidence of Winonah's precise co-ordinates, Kathryn." Sergei's voice was soft, coming through half closed lips like a whistle.

"B'Elanna and Karan Tor brought the evidence I needed. Now, we've eliminated more than 99% of the possible places she could be..."

"Kathryn, Chakotay would not leave Dorvan V when he discovered that she had been possibly abducted. He was demented, you know."

Sergei gave Kathryn a keen look. So much had happened since she had first met Chakotay's best friend; more than any other person, Sergei Karkoff knew how Chakotay had suffered. He had been present every step of the way as Chakotay tried to find the bodies of his parents, his sister, his brothers, their wives and their children. Sergei had seen how eventually Chakotay internalised his anger and embarked on a sinister, evil mission to bring Sedeka down.

Kathryn gave a sigh as she thought of what Chakotay must have gone through.

"I know," she said at length. "I know, Sergei."

"So, Winonah left the locket with Xandor Landral - "

"Who saved her life and died saving other children."

"Do you think Winonah might be ill-treated, Kathryn?"

"No, from what I've heard of Xandor's character, he made sure that she was safe."

"It's been a year..."

"I know. I hope she'll recognise me still. Poor child. She witnessed her parents' dying."

"She'll be among family again, Captain," Sergei said, becoming suddenly formal.

 Kathryn looked at Sergei for long seconds.

 "Did you know that Chakotay was convinced that Winonah never died? He - he told me the day that - that..."

"It's alright, Captain. You don't have to say it."

"No, I must. The day he transported to Evek's ship, he told me to adopt Winonah when I found her..."

"I am glad. She's going to need all the friendly faces around her. She'll be Hannah's new older sister."

"Yes..." Kathryn said. "Yes..."

"And Captain..."

"What is it, Sergei?"

"I know Chakotay isn't here with us now, and Hannah is home with your mother and Admiral Ponsonby. I know it must be painful right now, but - "

"What, Sergei?" Kathryn asked, sensing what Sergei was going to say. No one on board knew.

"I haven't forgotten. It's the eleventh of December. Happy anniversary, Captain. And for Hannah and Chakotay, happy birthday."

Kathryn felt her eyes burning with unshed tears and her throat was thick with emotion. She touched his arm and gave it a friendly squeeze.

"And for Anatoly," she said softly, knowing that Sergei's son shared a birthday with Hannah and Chakotay. "Happy birthday..."

"Thank you, Kathryn. The kid's growing like a weed. You've contacted your mother?"

"Indeed. Hannah's first birthday, and I missed the cake! But we...talked..."

Sergei laughed.

"I can just picture that. Hannah talked, huh."

"I miss them, Sergei," Kathryn said on a wistful note.

"We'll find him, Kathryn. We'll find Chakotay."

"Yes."

***  

**Kodari**

"Tom, bring us in to just the perimeter of the first asteroid belt," Kathryn ordered. She stood behind Tom at the conn and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Aye, Captain. We could come to within a metre Kodari's orbit if I manoeuvre this little baby to just inside the belt," he replied, turning to look up at her as he spoke.

Tom's daring was sometimes exceeded only by his smirking wisecracks, Kathryn thought as she smiled down at him and gave his shoulder a squeeze before she moved away from him.

"Good. Do it."

Kathryn was glad to have Tom on board. With Karan Tor and James Hamilton relieving him at Gamma and Beta shifts, she had the best team of pilots on Voyager. Karan Tor had been trained in Flight Manoeuvres by Chakotay himself; she had been surprised to learn when she studied the service records of the crew of Voyager before they set out from Deep Space Nine. Then Andra Stadi had been Chief Pilot... Now, Kathryn felt the intense excitement curiously mingled with apprehension coursing through her. It wouldn't be long now before they beamed down to the planet. They had already requested permission to enter Kodari's orbit, the Interim Committee Representative quite amenable when Kathryn had stated their mission.

A few minutes later, Voyager was manoeuvred expertly through the hail of rocks that flew at them as they reached the inside edge of the belt. Kathryn held her breath, as she was certain every other officer on the bridge did as well. But Tom, past master at letting them teeter on the brink of alarm by shaving close to the rocks or escaping a millisecond before something actually hit them, cleaved the sudden black expanse so gently that when Voyager was brought to a virtual halt, he fingered the panelled array of the conn, then raised his hands as if he had just guided an orchestra through the final bars of a concerto.

"There. Safely packaged and delivered..." Tom swivelled in his chair, his hands on his thighs; he looked at her with a bright smile and shining eyes.  Kathryn shook her head. She returned to the command chair and gave a sigh of relief when she sat down.

"The man's good," Commander Eamon Daley whispered.

"The brightest and the best for this vessel, Eamon."

Eamon smiled, his eyes friendly and warm as he basked in the compliment she bestowed on him.

"We'll be away for no more than one day, Commander. Take good care of my ship."

"Always, Captain," he replied and Kathryn could have sworn that he wanted to salute her. She rose from her chair and walked to the turbolift.

"Lieutenant Rollins, meet me in the transporter room in twenty minutes. The doctor and Lieutenant Karan will be waiting for us there..."

"Aye, Captain."

Kathryn sagged back against the wall of the turbolift and closed her eyes. She needed to return to her quarters first before meeting Rollins, Karan and Sergei in the transporter room. Earlier in the day they had received inoculations from Sergei, who had winced when he inoculated himself , and then endured the teasing of the others.

"The temperatures of Kodari fluctuate between 45°C and 50°C, Captain. While the Cardassians and Klingons are accustomed to high temperatures, we need to insulate ourselves against UV radiation. I'll have to treat all of us again when we return to Voyager."

"Winonah?" she asked, her voice filled with trepidation. She had no idea what the living conditions of her niece were and the child could very have succumbed to the extremes of heat.

"Captain," Rollins reminded her again after they had studied the planet's weather conditions three days ago, "Winonah was born on a planet with temperatures averaging 40 degrees Centigrade. I don't think you should worry too much on that count."

She had nodded gravely to Rollins, thinking that she only needed to have some assurance that the child would be in good health. Now, making her way to her quarters to get something first before meeting the others, she battled to keep down her growing sense of alarm that all might not be well. Despite assurances from the others, and remembering how Chakotay would always tackle a problem head-on, she had butterflies in her stomach. She grinned. Butterflies indeed, and she a Starfleet Captain too. The last time she’d felt like that had been when she considered for a long time after her blind date with Chakotay, whether she should contact him. She had been holding her little Grey Eagle between her fingers when she felt it speak to her. Even so, after she made the connection, she had been all jitters then. Now, she was to look into the eyes of a child, eyes that resembled Chakotay's.

Winonah needed to see familiar things and the chances were that she might not recognise the woman whom her Uncle Chakotay had married. When she had visited with Chakotay on Dorvan V, it was only a two week vacation; now Kathryn wondered if the time she had connected with the child, who was then only four and a half, was enough for her to recognise her "Aunt Kathryn".  Winonah had lived the past six months with someone whom she might not want to leave...

But Winonah, even if she had bonded with her caretaker, would have to come home to Earth with her, to live with her and Hannah and call her own parents Grandma and Grandpa. Already Hannah, who’d had a birthday the day before, called Admiral Ponsonby "Grampy" and Gretchen "Grammy". Winonah would be Hannah's older sister... It was a gamble, but one well worth taking, even crossing all the sectors and braving all the Cardassians attacks. She had Winonah's locket and Kathryn prayed fervently that it would link the child to her past as well as her present and her future. Kathryn felt the old burn deep inside her as she thought of Chakotay's little niece, thought of Sekaya, the child's mother, of Xandor Landral whose incredible valour had saved the life of a child who’d lost everyone known to her, Xandor Landral, who died saving the lives of many other children.

"Make her our daughter, Kathryn..." Chakotay's words came to her from the last time she had seen him. "She will need you."

"She has been gone a year, Chakotay... I don't know if she'll recognise me..." Kathryn whispered the words to herself.

"I have seen terrible suffering on Dorvan V. No man should witness such devastation, such terrible atrocities such as I have seen. Winonah saw all of that, and she is only a child...only a child. In the name of all the spirits, Kathryn, no child should ever witness that..."

Chakotay's words were a reminder keeping her hope alive that one day he might be back with his family.

Then there was Karan Tor, who had begged her to be on the away mission. He had to bring home his two younger siblings, boys who were respectively eleven and thirteen years old. She had granted him permission and it warmed her the way his eyes lit up.

"I have never seen them, Captain, except in holovids my mother was able to send me in the early days. But they know about me. My mother had taught them to understand they have an eldest brother," Tor had said.

"I'm very happy for you, Tor. You have a unique opportunity to unite your family again."

Tor had smiled, a slow smile of pride that spread across his solemn face.

"As do you, Captain."

When her commbadge beeped the minute she exited the turbolift, she was startled from her reverie.

"Torres to Janeway."

"Go ahead, B'Elanna."

"Captain, I wish you well on this mission. Let Tor know I'll break his nose if his brothers don't show up on this vessel."

"Thank you, Miss Torres. I'll tell him you'll take care of his brothers - "

"Captain! That's not - "

"Janeway out."

Kathryn smiled as she entered the codes to her quarters.

****  

The heat hit them like a flame of fire the moment they beamed down about a hundred metres from Penytt Sarra's abode. Kathryn sucked in her breath sharply as she flipped open her tricorder.

"49°C!"

"Too hot for humans, Captain."

"That is the house," Kathryn said as she pointed to an abode in the distance. Not far from there they could see an outcrop. "Those are entrances to the planet's caverns..." They continued walking slowly and Kathryn's heart raced.

"Captain..." Karan Tor whispered and as she looked at the house, a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Penytt Sarra. I've been told by the Representative that a human child resided with her."

"Then Winonah is probably inside the house."

"I hope so!"

"I notice signs of terraforming, Captain," Sergei said as he looked around the dry landscape.

"The Cardassians living here have harnessed their skills and become productive," Rollins responded.

Kathryn was hardly aware of their conversation as they approached the house. Penytt Sarra was tall, her Cardassian features hardened by the weather conditions, but she stood still, almost serene, as she waited for them. Did her movements slow down? Kathryn took the last steps to the door of the house, the rest of the away team almost forgotten as she looked at the woman before her.

"Penytt Sarra? I am Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation starship USS Voyager."

The woman stared at her for long seconds, seconds in which Kathryn's heart sank one moment, flared with hope the next, then sank again.

"I was told only minutes ago of your arrival, Captain Janeway. You have come for Winonah."

It was all the confirmation Kathryn needed. Her eyes burned.

_We're almost there, Chakotay...almost there..._

Kathryn reached to touch the hand Penytt Sarra extended.

"Yes. I have come for Winonah. She is my husband's niece..."

Penytt Sarra nodded gravely; Kathryn gained the impression that the woman was sad.

"Winonah is not here."

Kathryn froze.

"What?"

Only then did Penytt Sarra smile. Kathryn turned to the rest of the team who waited about three metres behind her, and then back to face Penytt.

"Winonah could draw your face... I recognise you... Come, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Starship Voyager..."

They followed the Cardassian woman to the hill.

"You say she could draw my face, Penytt. How is it then that - "

Penytt stopped in her tracks.

"Be prepared, Captain Janeway. The child is mute. She has been mute since the day she was taken from her homeworld."

Kathryn had gone cold inside. She turned to Sergei.

"A not abnormal occurrence after the trauma she has suffered, Captain."

She nodded, and gestured to Penytt that they should proceed to the outcrop. It was not a great distance, but walking over the scorching ground was energy sapping. A trickle of perspiration ran down Kathryn's neck and when she glanced quickly at the others, saw that they were not any better off. Sergei’s face was red, his nose already blotched. Still, he smiled at her. She gave a little sigh of relief. At the entrance, Penytt stopped and looked at them.

"Captain Janeway, I shall accompany you into the cavern. It is quite safe. The child comes here every day."

"I understand."

Penytt looked at Karan Tor, as if she were seeing him for the first time and she frowned.

"I am Karan Tor, son of Karan Ardra of Bajor."

"Then I have good news for you, Karan Tor. Walk towards the first row of houses. At the end of that street, you will find an abode. It has a black door. The sons of Gul Gorek reside there. They were in my care for several months..."

"I thank you, Penytt Sarra." Tor nodded to Kathryn, then strode away from the outcrop with great haste in the direction Penytt Sarra indicated.

"Captain, I'll wait here," Magnus Rollins said, his hand hovering ever near his phaser.

"Come, you must get out of the sun. If you wait in the shade just inside the cavern, you will be fine."

The men nodded, Kathryn noting how Sergei had already flipped open his medical tricorder. She walked behind Penytt who had to bow low in the cave although Kathryn, being much smaller, was able to walk upright. They crossed an uneven cavern floor and  passed through a short passage. Kathryn noticed how much cooler it was inside here, and she wondered idly why more Kodari didn't frequent the caverns. Then again, they were already so accustomed to the heat. Penytt didn’t look as if it bothered her.

"I hear water," Kathryn whispered.

"Our underground rivers. It may not appear so, Captain Janeway, but water is plentiful here." Penytt spoke in low tones as well.

"Understood."

A few metres after exiting the passage, they stood at the entrance of a large cavern. Kathryn realised the light in the cavern came from a small aperture as well as the residue light from the main entrance that filtered through like an osmotic process. She saw large flat rocks at the edge of the river bank, and at the farthest end, she saw the child.

A hand rested gently on Kathryn's shoulder.

"Go now, Kathryn Janeway," Penytt Sarra said softly.

She could see Winonah only in profile. The child appeared deep in thought, caught in a world of dreams and fantasies. Kathryn's eyes were riveted to the still figure. It seemed that even the river calmed as she approached the child.

Strange... Strange...

Winonah sat, unmoving, oblivious of any intrusion, so close to the edge that she could pitch forward if a sudden sound or movement startled her. Her feet dangled in the water and she was leaning over a little, looking at her reflection. Then Kathryn noticed something else. Winonah's lips were moving. Was she in conversation with an unseen entity? Kathryn's eyes closed a moment. She had a vision of eagles in flight, saw an image of a kindly smiling Hannah, of Kolopak, of Chakotay as he sat outside his sister's abode one day and held Winonah on his lap, telling her a story... She felt the moment was too hallowed to disturb the child. A hand squeezed tight around Kathryn's heart, and she felt the familiar burn of unshed tears.

_I wish you were here, Chakotay, to witness this moment in which a child is communicating with her people..._

Kathryn opened her eyes. Winonah sat in the same position, but her lips had stopped moving.

"Winonah..."

There was not sudden startled surprise at hearing a long lost, familiar voice. All the expectations Kathryn had of her first meeting with Winonah, were shattered in the next few moments. There was no jumping for joy, no screams of happiness; there was no sharp intake of breath or sudden springing into life at the sight or sound of a familiar one. Always, when her father returned from a long mission, she and Phoebe had jumped all over him, literally hanging from his neck. They'd kiss him, hug him repeatedly because he was home for the first time in six months. No, it was not how she even watched Hannah shriek when she saw Kathryn's face in their weekly communications.

Winonah turned slowly to the direction from which she heard her name called. Her long hair swung with the turn of her head. Kathryn noted idly that soon, Hannah's hair would be that long too. Winonah's face held no surprise, her eyes were large, and in the light that came from the roof of the cavern and from its entrance, they were shiny pools of golden wine.

It was as if she waited for Kathryn, expected to see her standing there.

Kathryn was simply an extension of Winonah's thought process, whatever it was she was thinking about. The child drew her feet out of the water and stood up.

Oh, God...she is so small, so fragile...

"Winonah..."

Winonah stepped slowly towards her. Kathryn was strangely aware that the child seemed to be measuring the distance between them. Then she stopped and reached to touch Kathryn who had gone down on her knees. Little fingers rested for a long time against Kathryn's cheek. In complete awe Kathryn watched how Winonah's throat worked; she swallowed several times. Then Winonah's expressive eyes misted over, her lips quivered, and the words rushed from her.

"I waited for you to come, Aunt Kathryn..."

*********************** 

**END CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE**

 

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

**February 2372 - Indiana**

Early spring didn't come with its normal buoyancy of new blooms, chirping birds in the early morning and a sky that ought to have looked bluer than the pallid version of azure that Omar Khayyám spoke of in his opening rubáiyát. There, morning had been a deep blue that wrenched the immortal words from him and inspired the great poets to lyrical expressions. Indiana was still shaking off its winter shackles that had clung tenaciously to its trees, the eaves of the farmhouse and outbuildings; it had frozen up the small stream which now was slowly thawing. Ceara was the only living creature which bounded through thick snow, chasing birds and the odd, headstrong squirrel loathe to hibernate . 

Indiana looked beautiful at any time, came Kathryn's thought as she sat in the swing seat lazily rocking. The girls - Hannah had taken her first steps on Christmas day - were playing not far from her. Ceara was all over them with her rich red coat shiny, wagging her tail excitedly and generally making a nuisance of herself. Hannah would cry out, "No!" when Ceara kicked up too much sand, waving pudgy hands at the dog. 

Kathryn smiled indulgently as she looked at how protective Winonah was with the toddler. Hannah's steps were a little stronger now; all of them had been stunned when Hannah cried "Winonah" two days ago, graduating with alarming ease from the "Nonah" she could mouth when Winonah was first introduced to her. The girls looked alike, except for their eyes, and if Kathryn had told anyone that Winonah was her daughter, it would not have been viewed with any disbelief. In fact, Winonah was her daughter now, hers and Chakotay's, duly registered with the authorities concerned. Her appearance in San Francisco had created a minor sensation, and Gretchen, Adam Ponsonby and Phoebe had quickly seen to it that Winonah made the adjustment to her new surroundings with as little intrusion from well-meaning, though friendly, enquiries about the only survivor of Dorvan V. 

There was still a chill in the air, but the children were oblivious to the cold. Their sand pit was a perfect play area in which Winonah taught Hannah the properties of sand, which, Kathryn thought wryly, certainly did not include eating it. . 

Only the other day she had seen Hannah pop some sand into her mouth and before Kathryn could rush forward in motherly angst, Winonah, with sisterly concern, said, "No, Hannah, not in your mouth, please." Hannah, with complete disdain for sisterly advice, continued to eat sand, until Winonah looked imploringly Kathryn's way and cried, "Mommy! Talk to Hannah. She won't listen to me..." 

Kathryn's heart had wanted to burst. It was the first time Winonah had called her "Mommy". Even now, looking at her daughters, she still could not believe that the fates had been so good to them, that Winonah was with family again and that she loved her new mother with a fierceness that made Kathryn want to weep. 

It had not been easy. 

It had looked easy. On the surface, Winonah looked well cared for - neat, alert and interested in the things around her. 

Her conversation with Penytt Sarra was still very clear in her mind, for Kathryn recalled Penytt's words every time Winonah looked to take a step forward, then one or two back. She was progressing, and Kathryn knew everyone wanted the child to be a normal, well-adjusted child as soon as possible. 

As soon as possible. 

Kathryn had been in tears when Winonah, so quietly, too dignified for a child of her age, stepped into her arms and spoke for the first time. She had cried, not in the wild rush and sobbing Kathryn had expected, but gentle tears that didn’t stop flowing for a long time. 

"I missed you, Aunt Kathryn," Winonah had said softly, her hands always touching a part of Kathryn's face or her hair. 

"I missed you too, little one. I missed you too..." 

She had taken Winonah's hand and they’d walked back, meeting Penytt Sarra at the entrance. Penytt dashed forward. 

"Winonah, I heard you speak," she exclaimed. 

Winonah had looked gravely at the older woman before stepping into her arms too and hugging her fiercely. Sergei and Magnus Rollins, who had been waiting for them, looked on, their eyes darkened with emotion. Kathryn could see how Sergei swallowed, his eyes never leaving Winonah. 

"Please, Penytt Sarra, can I go home now with Aunt Kathryn?" Winonah asked, her voice already sounding stronger. 

Penytt Sarra held Winonah away from and gave her a kindly smile, wiping away the tears from thed young girl's cheek. 

"Every day, Winonah, that you came here, I knew it was to look for someone. You have now found her and I am very happy for you, little one." 

The child had given a nod, then turned her hand going into Kathryn's with great eagerness. Sergei signalled that they should move, while Magnus Rollins kept his eyes on his tricorder, looking for disturbances, the remotest chance that their rescue of Winonah might be botched after all. When they reached Penytt's house, Kathryn stopped to look at Magnus. 

"I must speak with Penytt Sarra first. Magnus, you could go and meet Karan Tor and oversee their transfer. We'll have three children on board for at least two weeks." 

"Aye, Captain," Magnus replied, smiling as he set off in the blazing heat. 

Penytt had already stepped inside, before Winonah, clinging to Kathryn's hand, pulled her inside too, out of the sun. 

"Winonah seems to be in good health, Captain, though a more thorough examination must be done when we're back on Voyager," Sergei said as he flicked the tricorder closed. Kathryn had not realised at that point that the ship's doctor had been taking scans unobtrusively while they were walking along the dusty compound to the house. 

"Yes...yes," she had replied distractedly when Winonah pulled her towards her bedroom. 

"This is my room, Aunt Kathryn. I - I have a toy a nice lady gave me when I was on Kronos..." 

"Is this it?" Kathryn asked, surprised when she lifted the toy from the pillow and held it up. 

"It's a targ." 

"Do you know the name of the lady who gave it to you?" 

"She said her name was Miral." 

The universe was small... 

"Then it's good, Winonah. Did you know that I have a little girl too?" Winonah drew in her breath so sharply that Kathryn thought the child was going to hyperventilate. Kathryn had been startled at Winonah's reaction. "What is the matter, Winonah?" 

"Is - is her name Hannah?" 

"Winonah, how ever did you know that?" 

"Grandmother Hannah said that you will have a baby girl and her name will be the same as Grandmother's name. Then it means that Hannah is my cousin, is it not? Just like - like Tomaso..." 

"Yes. Hannah is a year old - " 

"I am six, Aunt Kathryn." 

"I know, honey." 

"Can I go home with you now?" Winonah asked. Her liquid brown eyes were large and expectant. Winonah's lips parted as if she thought Kathryn might damn her forever to remain on Kodari. "Please..." 

Kathryn, who had sat down on the bed next to Winonah, drew the child against her bosom. 

"Oh, Winonah. It's why I'm here. I've come to fetch you and you're coming to live with me and Hannah and my own parents..." 

Winonah gasped again. 

"And will I go to school?" 

"Of course." 

Tears sprang into Winonah's eyes again. Kathryn noticed how her small hand felt around her neck, before she remembered. Hooking fingers over the edge of her turtleneck, Kathryn retrieved a locket and chain, smiling sadly as she held it to Winonah. Kathryn held her breath, wondering for a moment whether it was a good idea to show it to the child. It was the surest proof they had that Winonah had indeed survived the massacre, that and Xandor Landral's amazing testimony. It was the link to this child, Kathryn thought, and Chakotay's desperate wish to see the child returned to family. She was just about to close her fingers round it, when Winonah took it from Kathryn, fumbling with the catch. 

"Winonah, honey, the pictures - " 

Winonah stared for a long time at the miniatures of her parents. She was quiet, too quiet, Kathryn thought when she finally closed the locket and held it so that Kathryn could put it on for her. When it was done, she settled her body against Kathryn, and hugged her fiercely. Winonah's face felt feverish as Kathryn caressed her cheek. This time, she didn't weep. 

"They joined the sky spirits..." 

*********************** 

 

Penytt Sarra had filled Kathryn in on Winonah's progress regarding her schooling and she had been glad that Penytt insisted Winonah interact with other children, even when she couldn't communicate verbally with them. Penytt Sarra was a hero, Kathryn thought, someone who had lost five sons to the war, and yet could extend her love and her compassion to others. 

Back on board Voyager, the entire ship had been abuzz with the arrival of the three children. B'Elanna had hailed her the moment they materialised in the transporter room, wanting to know about the child. "She looks like Chakotay, doesn't have his dimples and could very well be mistaken for Hannah's sister," Kathryn had replied, then closed communication immediately while they made their way to the doctor. 

B'Elanna could wait, Kathryn had decided, when Winonah held tightly to her hand until they were in sickbay. Then she had become fractious when Sergei examined her. Sergei had given Kathryn a pained look, which she interpreted correctly. The child was wary of him; Kathryn had noticed how she shied away from Magnus Rollins too, while they prepared to leave Penytt's house. Winonah had decided to leave some of her things there, for "when Penytt Sarra has another little girl to look after" but had wanted her toy targ. She had absolutely nothing left of Dorvan V, and the targ, which had been given her soon after being taken to Kronos, had become a constant, something like a pacifier that Winonah clung to. 

Sergei had declared all three children fit, and Kathryn had made arrangements for an extra cabin close to Karan Tor's so that he was at hand when his brothers needed him. Tor had been grateful; when they reached more familiar sectors and were closer to Deep Space Nine, B'Elanna was to escort them to Bajor, where they could be reunited with their mother. Gul Gorek had no more interest in them, so Karan Ardra could rebuild her life with two of her sons, knowing that her eldest son would always be within hailing range. It was an arrangement that suited all of them. She had not wanted Tor to thank her; the gratitude in his eyes, and the excitement of the boys at the prospect of being with their mother again, was enough reward for her. 

She had ordered Voyager to head towards sector 398, where they could take one of the shuttles to Deep Space Nine, and from there get a safe passage to Bajor. Winonah had clung to her when Kathryn came to her quarters to let the child become familiar with her surroundings. They had one pregnant officer on board; Samantha Wildman had been willing to take care of Winonah while Kathryn was on duty. 

That night, Kathryn had replicated Winonah a new nightgown and robe, and after her bath, she looked more alive that she had been the entire day. The excitement had been intense for her and Kathryn knew that soon, tired eyes would droop. 

"What would you like to eat, Winonah?" she asked as she prepared their table. Winonah had given her a shy smile. 

"Can I have pasta, Aunt Kathryn?" 

"Sure, honey." 

Kathryn had enjoyed watching Winonah eat while she enjoyed her own meal. Chakotay had never liked much meat himself and was partial to pasta. Did it run in the family? 

"My Mama said Uncle Chakotay loved pasta..." 

"It runs in the family." 

"Where is Uncle Chakotay?" 

Kathryn had been quiet a long time, pondering how to answer Winonah's question. Even she didn't know where Chakotay was right now. The last information she had was that he was still alive, but that had been on Cardassia Prime. He might be gone from there, or he might be dead. She struggled a moment to control her raging longing, and quell any thought that he was dead. She wanted to believe Chakotay was still alive. She remembered his words to her, "Thoughts of you and our baby will keep me alive..." She prayed desperately that it was true, that he kept his thoughts focused on his remaining family. Chakotay would be happy that his niece was safe. Winonah had to know the truth. Kathryn gave a sigh and put her fork and knife down. 

"Winonah, Uncle Chakotay was taken prisoner. He cannot be with us now, but I know he would be very, very happy that we found you. He was searching all over for you, did you know? And when he couldn't search anymore, when he was taken away from us, he made me promise that I would look until I found you. 

"When will Uncle Chakotay come home, Aunt Kathryn?" 

Another heavy pause followed as Kathryn looked at Winonah, not really seeing her. She imagined Chakotay in pain somewhere, being tortured and beaten, suffering. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, Winonah reached over the table to touch her hand softly. 

"I don't know, Winonah. I hope it will be soon." 

"Will I be your little girl now, like Hannah?" 

Kathryn had shown Winonah holovids earlier of Hannah and Chakotay. She had also shown her pictures of Ceara, and at the sight of the dog, Winonah had gasped, saying that she never had a dog. Those pictures showing her with Hannah, kissing Hannah and Hannah kissing and hugging her, had been what must have impacted on Winonah. She had not flinched, but her eyes had been hollow - hollow and hungry. Kathryn could understand Winonah's fears and her desires. In the last year, in the first months, Winonah had been in the care of different people only in the last six months, had seen a little stability with Penytt Sarra. 

"Do you know what Uncle Chakotay also said to me, Winonah?" Kathryn asked, watching the play of emotion in the child's eyes. She looked at least settled, happy to be with her, but there was an air of anticipation about her. Kathryn grinned inwardly. This was what Hannah would look like if any promise were to be made to her, or if Kathryn told her a story and she waited for the next tense filled moment, the climax, the denouement. Eyes remained on her, lips parted, and Winonah's fork stayed in mid-air. 

"What did he say, Aunt Kathryn?" 

"He said - he said that when I found you, I must make you our own little girl." 

Kathryn's heart wanted to break when Winonah's eyes filled with tears. In a haze she watched her get up from her chair and walk round the table to stand next to her. Winonah smelled all baby powder fresh but her eyes were alive, suddenly. 

"Penytt Sarra said my Mama and my Papa are here," and she indicated by placing her hand over her heart, her fingers touching the locket, "in my heart." 

Kathryn swallowed, unable to prevent a tear from rolling down her cheek. She lifted Winonah on her lap and held her very close to her bosom. 

"I know, honey. They will always be in your heart. One day soon, I will show you more pictures of them that Uncle Chakotay put together and sent to me..." 

Winonah just nodded, making Kathryn think for a fearful moment that she had lost her voice again. 

"But will I be your little girl?" Winonah repeated her question, and Kathryn thought she heard a fearful tone in her voice. She sighed. Children like Winonah were still so small to be faced with so many insecurities. Even though she had complete assurance that she was now safe with people she knew, and that she would be looked after and go to school and one day go to Starfleet Academy like Sekaya had promised, Winonah needed more. She'd need verbal assurance that she would be Kathryn and Chakotay's daughter, so that even though she was too young to understand her own subconscious need to be connected in a close filial bond she would walk a path, secure in the knowledge that she had parents who loved her. 

"Winonah, do you know what what adoption is?"

Winonah shook her head; Kathryn lifted her chin so that she could look her in the eyes. 

"It means that Uncle Chakotay and I will make arrangements and sign documents that will say Winonah is now the daughter of Chakotay and Kathryn, and Hannah will be your baby sister, and my own parents will be your new Grandma and Grandpa." 

"And my - my last name will be Janeway? I never had one..." 

Kathryn had never thought about it quite that way and it revealed one particularly poignant desire as far as Winonah was concerned. The child must have pondered on the prospect of this happening. No wonder she had been so melancholic and reclusive, making her way to her favourite spot in the cavern every day. There she could dream and yearn and communicate with everyone she’d ever known in her life on Dorvan V. There Winonah could become Winonah Janeway in her yearnings for a home she knew was there, if only someone came to fetch her... 

Now watching her daughters at play, all that was needed to complete the family picture, was Chakotay. Even Hannah sometimes became fractious and cried for long spells, and Kathryn would have her hands full getting her to calm down again. Now, it was a little better, with Winonah also here. Kathryn gave an inward sigh. 

Winonah still had a long road to recovery. While Hannah was tractable to a certain degree, she was bright and exuberant and open, never shy about being held by her Grandpa Adam or Admiral Paris or Lewis. She loved her Aunt Phoebe and adored Elizabeth Paris, who was their doctor. Winonah was the opposite. Always a diffident little girl, shy at first with a stranger and only thawing much later - Kathryn had experienced that herself when she first met Sekaya's little daughter - she was reserved now. Kathryn was willing to accept that that was a natural aspect of Winonah's personality, but she knew that her experience on Dorvan V had only entrenched her natural tendency to wariness. 

That much Kathryn was rudely awakened to, the second night Winonah was on board Voyager on their way home to Earth. 

Kathryn had woken from a deep slumber and stared dazedly down at the child thrashing around next to her. 

"Winonah...Winonah...wake up," Kathryn had said gently so as not to startle the child. But even at fifteen percent illumination she could see the terrified look on Winonah's face as she opened her eyes, saw Kathryn, then screamed in a high thin wail, while covering her ears. 

"Mama...Mama... Papa..." 

"Shhh...Winonah, it's alright, I'm here," Kathryn had tried to soothe the hysterical child but she refused to be consoled, or wake out of her nightmare. Kathryn thought later it was not so much refusal as seeing Kathryn as a Cardassian.

"Don't hurt Mama... Don't...please leave her alone..." 

Then the high, thin wail rent the air again and Kathryn, compelled to haul the child in her arms, felt the intense stiffness followed by a series of shudders and sobs, punctuated by the thin, banshee-like wailing. Kathryn, her eyes filling with tears as Winonah, unable to emerge from her nightmare, continued to finally called the medical bay. Minutes later, they were beamed to sick bay where Sergei, on duty in Gamma shift, quickly administered a sedative to calm her.

Winonah had wondered why she was in sick bay while Kathryn had wondered how many nights Penytt Sarra had sat up trying to console the distraught child. 

"It was only a nightmare, Winonah..." 

To which Winonah, with disarming truth, replied, "But it happened, Aunt Kathryn...Mama is dead... Papa is dead..." 

"I know, I know, little one. When we get home to Earth, it will get better, don't worry." 

By then, Kathryn had already decided to follow Sergei's advice to have Deanna Troi appointed as Winonah's counsellor while Deanna was on a long duty break. Now, almost three months and many nightmares later, there was at last some improvement. Winonah, in the company of people, family mostly, who loved her, blossomed and became less diffident than she had been before. Kathryn gave a sigh of pleasure. It was Hannah's own cheerfulness and high spirits , together with something of Chakotay's vigour and obstinacy at times, that rubbed off on Winonah. She became confident, less afraid of displaying emotion and being demonstrative. 

Two days ago, Winonah had called her "Mommy" for the first time. It wasn't something that she had impressed on the child. She was always aware that she was Winonah's aunt by marriage only. But hearing Hannah constantly calling her "Mommy", and during their short visits to Svetlana, hearing how Svetlana interacted with Anatoly and Irina, and how Dalene was with her little baby boy and the two girls who called Dalene Mama, had given Winonah the encouragement to be as free and open with Kathryn. 

Hannah had wanted to sleep with Kathryn, but she had been hesitant to allow the toddler to become too comfortable sleeping with her mother. However, she’d relented when Winonah had also looked at her with doleful eyes.

"Can I also sleep in Mommy's bed?" she asked. 

"Winonah? You called me 'Mommy'." 

"Uh-huh." 

On Deanna Troi’s advice, Kathryn had been humbled by Winonah's love. They had gradually shown Winonah pictures of her parents and of Kolopak and Grandma Hannah, and a beautiful photograph of Tomaso, her cousin who’d also died. She had just nodded, her eyes going dark with remembrance, then minutes later, her equilibrium was restored. Now, Winonah, using her own vid-com, could look whenever she felt the need to. Kathryn smiled. Lately, Winonah was only interested in looking at vid-images of Hannah and Kathryn, of herself and Hannah and Chakotay. Pictures of family, and that included her new grandparents. That thought brought a warm feeling. Winonah had taken quickly to her Grandma Gretchen and Grandpa Adam. After a day spent with their grandparents they'd come home full of their visit. Gretchen and Adam had taken instantly to Winonah, as did Phoebe, who was enthralled by the child's ability to sketch. 

Now, although Kathryn was sure that her elder daughter would always have the events of Dorvan V as part of her memories. They would be put where they couldn't hurt as much as they did in the first weeks and months and years. 

Kathryn rose from the swing seat and her movement catching the dog's attention. Ceara instantly shifted loyalties and ran up to the porch and nuzzling Kathryn's leg. Winonah looked up, but Hannah was still engrossed in scooping sand into her bucket. 

"Are we going now, Mommy?" Winonah asked. 

They were due back in San Francisco that evening. Her two months leave ended in a few days, and preparations were underway to take Voyager right into the heart of Cardassian space. Her mother and Adam were ready to take the children again and Kathryn was glad and saddened at the same time. Sometime soon, she'd have to make some decision about her future. Her children were young and they needed her. Sergei appreciated the time with his wife and children, and Samantha Wildman was giving birth in three months time so she would not be boarding Voyager again. She had informed Kathryn that she'd be back only after hostilities had ended. 

Which could be years still, Kathryn though with some dread. 

Winonah had taken Hannah's hand and both were coming up the steps onto the porch. Ceara was wagging her tail excitedly. 

"Yes, sweetheart. I have to be on my ship in a few days but we're all going to Grandma and Grandpa first so you can settle in there." 

"Gammy, Gammy!" Hannah crowed. 

Kathryn bent down to lift her baby in her arms and they entered the house together. 

"Yes, sweetie," Kathryn said as she kissed Hannah's forehead, "we're going to Grandma." 

"And I'm going back to school," Winonah said proudly. 

She was going to miss them. It had been good being home, but she wanted to get back among the stars. She was due to be briefed by Admirals Paris, Ponsonby and Lewis and this time she wondered what her mission would entail. 

Kathryn sighed. She missed Chakotay. Missed him now more than ever. 

*********************** 

It was with a heavy heart that Kathryn made her way to Starfleet Headquarters to see Admiral Paris. The two days she had been at her mother's new home with the children had been too short, and Hannah had been surprisingly fretful, sensing that Kathryn was going to leave her again for what appeared this time to be an undisclosed period. She’d had her hands full the previous night when Hannah wouldn't stop crying; only after Winonah had spoken in her big sisterly tones, did the toddler settle down. Naturally that had only happened when Winonah promised Hannah could sleep with her in her bed. Kathryn sighed. Hannah was still so much a baby who just wanted her mother and those times when Kathryn left, she hardly wanted to leave Kathryn's side; the last few days Hannah had slept either with her or with Winonah. 

Now, she was filled with trepidation about the briefing. Voyager was to rendezvous with four other vessels near the Cardassian border. Ken Dalby had to join Voyager in a week's time. She had no idea where he’d gone to although she had kept tabs on her crew. That was something she was about to ask Paris and Ponsonby. It was time they played open cards with her. 

For a long time she had not known about Chakotay's doings or whereabouts, and understandably, that had been covert, and her "plausible deniability" claims really had to have impact to protect his wife and child. She had succeeded with Admiral Nechayev, who only wanted Chakotay apprehended, or preferably dead. Now, with Nechayev relenting on the Maquis, other hard line admirals followed suit, especially after Berrol Oldimar had struck a giant blow to key Dominion and Cardassian installations. Berrol had been recalled; which was the best thing the Federation could have done. Kathryn had met him way back during their Academy days and had been struck by his seriousness. 

They were winning the war, but the costs... The Federation had lost thousands, many of its finest vessels destroyed or drifting in deep space, whole worlds decimated. Always, the costs were incalculable. 

She hoped the admirals could give her news of Chakotay and the hundreds of other prisoners of war in Cardassian labour camps. Kathryn closed her eyes. She had dreamed last night, a vivid dream in which they were walking along a pristine beach, holding the hands of their children. It was so clear that when waking up, her hand had gone to the pillow beside hers; she had swallowed her deep disappointment, her hand touching the heads of Winonah and Hannah. After that, sleep had eluded her and it was only hours later that she had fallen into a restless slumber. Early this morning she had been tired herself, with both children demanding her attention, but her mother had cheerfully assisted and got Winonah ready for school and an hour later, Hannah was all ready for her toddler's play group at Headquarters. 

It was another warmish day, yet Kathryn shivered as she entered the building housing the offices of Admirals Paris and Ponsonby. Her stepfather had left very early from home, before everyone else was up so she had not seen him yet. 

When she stood in front of Owen Paris's door, she took a deep breath before pressing the panel. 

*********************** 

Kathryn was surprised to see Ken Dalby in Owen Paris's office. 

"Captain!" 

Ken rose from his seat as she entered. 

"At...ease, Lieutenant," she said, unable to mask her surprise as she looked first at him, then at Owen Paris and Adam Ponsonby. 

"Thank you, Captain," Ken responded, as she seated herself in the chair next to his. 

"What is the meaning of this, Admirals?" she asked as she noted how Ken Dalby's hands trembled a little, and she realised with some alarm that he looked ill at ease. Ill at ease and concerned. How did she not notice it when she entered? Had she been too surprised to see nervousness etched on Ken Dalby's face? 

And why, when he could have relayed something via subspace, was it necessary for him to be here? Were they to be briefed on the same thing? 

Adam Ponsonby coughed, and he too, looked concerned. 

"Kathryn, we have some news - " 

"Captain, you must take Voyager to the Demilitarised Zone," Owen Paris cut in. 

"The nature of this mission, gentlemen?" she asked, suddenly touched by the ambience of strange vibes in the room. Something was up. Something that had to do with... 

"Ken, will you fill in Captain Janeway?" Adam Ponsonby asked before he planted himself in front of the window that overlooked the lush gardens of Starfleet. 

Dalby gave a sigh, looked at the admirals with what Kathryn thought was a distraught look, before facing her. 

"I have found out where Chakotay and about a hundred Starfleet prisoners of war are to be taken, Captain," he stated in a hollow voice. 

"They're to be moved from Cardassia Prime?" she asked. 

This time Ken turned to Owen. Owen Paris nodded before taking over from Ken. 

"A planet called Jarok situated in a star cluster in the DMZ, called the Falrak Dwarf Star System." 

"But Admiral! It's a D-class planet, and no humans have ever survived there for any length of time." 

"Right. Cardassia Prime has been under attack by the Dominion again, and is now fighting its former friends. For some reason they decided to dump Starfleet POW's on that world and a few other planets." 

"Without any supervision?" 

"None that we know of," Owen replied tersely. Adam Ponsonby turned from the window and walked round the desk to stand next to Kathryn, touching her shoulder in a consoling gesture. She stiffened at his touch, sensing instantly that something had happened to Chakotay. "Ken, will you explain what you've discovered?" 

Ken Dalby sighed and Kathryn felt Adam's hand tightening on her shoulder. Was he trying to keep her down? she wondered. 

"I spent my vacation looking up old friends who helped us during our Maquis days, Captain. I met with a Klingon called Morok, who lived for a while on a planet in the Demilitarised Zone, and during a skirmish with the Jem'Hadar, we injured and er...tortured one of them." 

"How?" Kathryn wondered why she even asked. 

"I blocked off his ketracel white that he needed to survive. He was suffering major withdrawal symptoms." 

"But death is their salvation," Kathryn said, remembering her knowledge of that race, the fighting arm of the Dominion. 

"Yes, it is, Captain. But he was willing to part with the information we needed. He committed suicide afterwards." 

Kathryn gave a violent shiver at hearing Ken's words. 

"Kathryn," Adam Ponsonby said and she looked up into his grave face, "Chakotay is to be taken to Jarok. The prisoners will be there by the time Federation vessels arrive." 

"But the planet is under surveillance by the Jem'Hadar," Owen Paris said. "We can only spare five vessels to get in there and bring them to Federation space." 

"Chakotay? How - how is he?" 

"That is why I've come here, Captain," Ken Dalby said as she looked at him. What, she wondered, was wrong? She understood that Chakotay might have experienced some violent torture. It wasn't difficult to envisage since that was the Cardassian way of treating prisoners and slaves. 

"It seems the Cardassians, occupied with saving their own skins, will deposit them on Jarok and leave them there to die. That way, their consciences, if they ever had them to begin with, are salved." Owen Paris was uncompromisingly gruff when he spoke about the Cardassians. 

"Chakotay?" she asked again. 

"Captain, I believe Chakotay may be dying." 

Kathryn turned cold at Ken Dalby's words. 

"D-Dying? she stammered suddenly. 

"If we don't get them within the next three weeks, Kathryn, they'll all be dead. Ken has determined that there is enough water. For the next month, but food is almost non-existent. Chakotay's injuries are severe. The Jem'Hadar don't go to the planet; they only patrol that Star System." 

"Captain, I've heard from Morok that - that Chakotay especially, was made a target of experimentation. I'm sorry. I wanted to go to Cardassia Prime and get them all out single-handedly, you understand?" 

Kathryn nodded. She wanted to go right in and get Chakotay out. But they had to traverse sectors overrun by Jem-Hadar. It was a dangerous mission, dangerous just to enter those sectors, then to get one hundred prisoners of war off Jarok? 

"Kathryn, you have a difficult task at hand. Voyager is to lead a five ship armada to the Falrak Star System and get those prisoners out. They may already be on their way there as we speak..." 

"You're certain Jarok is where they're to be taken?" Kathryn asked. 

"Dead certain, Captain. The Jem'Hadar would not lie. By the time we get there, the prisoners will have arrived." 

Kathryn nodded mutely. Chakotay was dying, and who knew how many other prisoners weren't already dead? She had been given hope, if only a little and that was that Chakotay was still alive. If Dalby... 

When Dalby spoke, it was to answer her silent question. 

"I only came into this information a few days ago, Captain, on my way back here. I wanted to inform Admiral Paris personally." 

"Mr Dalby did the right thing, Kathryn. Voyager is due to leave first thing tomorrow morning." 

Kathryn nodded again, and gripped Dalby's hand tightly. 

"Thank you, Ken." 

"He's my friend, Captain. The man saved my life." 

"Kathryn," Adam Ponsonby said as she rose from her seat, "could I see you in my office, please?" 

*********************** 

Adam Ponsonby had never rued the day he met Gretchen Janeway. His life was put on hold when she married Edward Janeway, his close friend and colleague. They had never known of the feelings he had, and so never quite understood the reason he sought to remain unattached for so many years. Oh, he tried, many times in the early years, but no one could ever obliterate what feelings he had for a woman who was married to his friend, and so he sublimated all he felt for her. They maintained the old camaraderie that had always existed between them through the years, and he could never quite live down Gretchen's amazing capacity for teasing him mercilessly, mostly about his being so prosaic at times. Never in the years of her marriage to Edward had he ever encroached on what was very intimate, private and sanctified. Why should he when she never knew how he felt about her? 

But he remained their friend, and when Edward died, it was Gretchen who sought him for the solace she craved. In a way he was glad, for at the time, he had not wanted it to seem that he was offering comfort with the express idea that she was now free and in a matter of time, would turn to him. 

She had two beautiful and brilliant daughters; they were there for her too, although Kathryn had been thrown into a deep depression after the death of her father and Justin, her fiancé. He had been grateful then that he could mean so much to Gretchen; he could ease her pain and drive away a little of her loneliness. 

And so Adam, friend and sometimes confidant as well as the target of Gretchen's special brand of gentle and sometimes not so gentle teasing, remained just that, even after Edward died. Yes, she came to him and, without ever speaking of her pain and her desolation, he knew what she suffered; he became the sounding board that absorbed some of Gretchen's unhappiness and pain, and shared her joy when her daughters achieved. Sometimes, Gretchen would speak about her troubles and he'd listen; other times she came to him, and they'd be quiet, but he would know that something troubled her. Many times in recent years, he’d felt that she was changing, and hope soared that she could return his feelings. 

He loved her. 

It was never spoken, always just under the surface, suggested in her teasing, her smiles, her unconscious way in which her eyes lit up when he touched her cheek. If she knew she was doing it, she'd stop instantly.

He had loved Gretchen almost from the day he first met her, and he knew, when she turned to his friend Edward, that he would always play a role of friend and love her from a distance. Over the years he had become very good at hiding those illicit feelings, and only in the last few years, had he become bolder when it seemed that she didn't rebuff his gentle, if tentative advances. 

There was something about a Gretchen Janeway that made men worship her, that made men want to lay their lives down for her. He had known the day he fell in love with Gretchen, that he would never love another woman, and he never had. And so, more than a year ago, when he finally declared his true feelings for Gretchen Janeway, how could he not smile and feel the ridiculous need to cry at the way she responded with, "Adam, now that wasn't so difficult, was it? What took you so long?" 

How could he know then that she had felt the same for so many years? Yet, he never felt as if they’d wasted any years of togetherness, for what they shared was too unique, and those years, in which they were just close, intimate friends, were to become an inextricable part of their lives together. 

"We come as a package, Adam, you must realise that." 

Adam had grinned inwardly. Gretchen had insisted that he ask Kathryn and Phoebe for their mother's hand in marriage... 

Even though her daughters were independent women who lived their own lives, he knew that it meant a lot to her. He revelled in being a father, and Phoebe, bless her, called him Pops. He loved Kathryn and Phoebe as if they were his own daughters. And now, with two granddaughters, his life was full. 

As he looked at Kathryn after she entered his office, she appeared so much like her mother that he felt his own heart wanting to break at her unhappiness. Her eyes were wide, as if she were still in shock, but they were also dark with deep emotion. He had seen Kathryn close to hysteria, although she hid it very well. Like all Starfleet captains and admirals, she was good at hiding her feelings. Weren't they all, those who were captains and vice-admirals and admirals in Starfleet? No matter how traumatic or how close to one's life a trauma or pain-filled event hit, the pain was a risk every officer in Starfleet had to accept. That page from the rule book accompanied them to breakfast, to the holodecks, to the ready rooms, boardrooms and yes, even to bed. 

Kathryn and Chakotay...their lives had never been comfy rose beds without thorns. It was a hard road they walked and with Chakotay not presently in Kathryn's life, they did everything they could to make life bearable for him. Because he regarded Kathryn as his daughter, therefore Chakotay became the son he’d never had, and he felt the same deep concern for both of them as he would had they been his own children. 

Adam looked at Kathryn as she stood before him and the way her lips compressed, he knew she was fighting hard to control her emotions. How could she not? Her husband was dying somewhere, alone, without family. She had just been given the task - again - of rescuing him. Her eyes were darkened by pain and memories. 

"Come here, Kathryn," he said softly and opened his arms. 

Adam Ponsonby held her a long time, feeling how her body shivered and how she struggled, hearing the occasional sob. By the time she looked at him, there was a wan smile. 

"I failed him before, Adam," Kathryn said to him, her voice quivering. "I failed him..." 

"You didn't, you know. That is the Chakotay we all know. He would have wanted to do it his way. He saved the lives of two crews that day." 

"I failed him," Kathryn repeated her words, and Adam gripped her shoulders again and pulled her into his embrace. 

"No, you didn't, Kathryn. Chakotay was acting in the true, honourable tradition of Starfleet, of placing the needs of others before his own." 

It was quiet a while. He thought she was crying. 

"I miss him..." 

"I know, Kathryn. I know..." Adam said gently. 

Then she stood away from him, looking every inch the Starfleet captain ready to take on the Dominion. Arms at her sides, though her face still looked drawn, her stance was erect and full of purpose. 

"I would have done the same." 

"I know. We'll take good care of the children for you." 

"Hannah, she can be obstinate - " 

Adam gave a sigh. 

"Don't we know it. Doesn't she ever sit still for two minutes together?" 

"And - and Winonah, she is due for another session with Deanna Troi." 

"I'm taking care of that. She's getting quite used to me now, Kathryn. Hannah and Winonah...they could be mistaken for sisters." 

Kathryn smiled, a rather tearful smile, he thought. She also looked intensely proud for a few moments. Winonah had crept into everyone's heart. Elizabeth had declared her in good physical condition and then Winonah had given her a hug at her last examination. 

"And, Mom, she can be a handful - " 

"Duly noted, Kathryn," he said, unable to keep himself from smiling. His life with Gretchen was energizing. She kept him constantly on his toes. 

Another short silence followed in which Kathryn's face became serious again. He knew she was thinking of her important mission. He knew she was thinking that this time, she had to succeed. He knew she was thinking of Chakotay. 

"Bring him home, Kathryn. Bring him home, will you?" 

*********************** 

END CHAPTER THIRTY SIX


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:**   
>  **This chapter contains scenes of non-consensual sex and torture. If you are 17 and under, of necessity you have to skip this. While there are no explicit or graphic descriptions of sex, the images evoked are nonetheless disturbing.**

 

* * *

**Cardassia Prime - August 2371 - March 2372**

**Kyrie eleison [ _Lord, have pity_ ] **

He refused to cry out in pain. The days had rolled into a never-ending miasma of agony, like lava flowing thick and slow, yet inexorably scorching the very earth and its foundations in its source knew it could only stop if the source could not give up any more of its precious elements. So his body was wracked by the rapacious weapon that cut into his brain, ate into every crevice and node, every valley and jutting edge - nerve endings that protested in panicked urgency for release, writhing in terrified sequence as they anticipated the next wave of malevolent impulses designed to test the subject's endurance. Long ago, he had heard the cries of his fellow inmates. One by one, he heard their cries stop.

Chakotay lay on the bed, no longer knowing which part of his body had been pricked, prodded, or stabbed, which bones had been broken with deliberate ease, as if someone had held a twig and just snapped it between his fingers.

He had become desensitised in a way, uncaring where his body was ravaged, only searingly aware of a burn throughout, a spread that never left him, unless sometimes, momentarily, released as yet another scientist or warrior claimed his body.

Once, he had told Kathryn that thinking of her would keep him alive.

Once, he thought he was immune to pain.

Yet, he’d discovered that, in detaching himself from that reality of agony by thinking, moving away from the hands that touched, and from the grotesques sounds and grunts, there was a way of disengaging.

To Gul Evek he had long ago lost his use.

Evek...

The moment he’d materialised on the bridge of the Vetar, he had expected to be beaten up, to feel the pain of the phaser rifle as some unidentified warrior dealt him a glancing blow to the head. He had expected to die that very moment.

Instead...

"So, we meet again, Chakotay - "

"I don't recall meeting you before, Evek."

"Ah, but we have common interests, have you forgotten?"

Evek was calm, but he could sense the rage under the bluish tinge of the Cardassian's skin. The way his lips curled slightly, not so much to indicate derision or hate or desire for revenge, but something that Chakotay thought was much deeper, more sinister.

Chakotay knew then that the gul meant business.

"If you know, then why don't you kill me now? Are you too much of a coward?"

He had seen the flinch, but Evek recovered.

"Killing you? Too easy, Chakotay. I’ve let Voyager go, for now - "

"You're losing the war, Evek. Your friends have become your enemies."

Again, Evek flinched so imperceptibly that only Chakotay noticed, though several Cardassian warriors stood around them, their phaser rifles trained on him. Was it a cold rush of air that worked its way across his back, and made his neck hair rise?

"We do not bow to the Dominion or the Federation. They can conduct their little war," Evek replied coolly, then raised an eyebrow, the lips curling into something that made Chakotay cringe. "I have what I want...what I always wanted."

"What do you - "

Evek snapped his fingers.

"Tarob!"

"Sir."

"Escort Chakotay to our Obedience Room."

Hardly had Evek spoken the words than Chakotay felt his hands being tied behind his back; he was shoved to the nearest exit and from there down several decks, until they came to a room. He was pushed inside, pushed so hard that he fell to the floor. Unable to break his fall, his head hit first. The force made him dizzy, and before he could even regain his balance, a boot connected with his midsection. He groaned as all the air seemed to leave him; blinded by the force that exploded behind his eyelids, he endured the next few minutes as the warriors booted him.

He tried not to cry out.

Then suddenly, the kicking stopped. He heard a voice, as if it came through banks of thick mist.

"Untie him."

Evek. He had not known when Evek had entered the room. Blood oozing from somewhere, dripped down his face and he could taste the warm, stickiness. He was forced on his knees and the warriors - had there been two or four? - fumbled with his hands. The relief of rubbing his wrists was short-lived. Something was happening. Evek never spoke again after that, neither did the warriors.

Pulled to his feet, rough hands with sharp nails that dug into his protesting flesh, started ripping his clothes from him. That was when he fought. He took a swipe at the first warrior, connecting his fist with a surprised jaw. The warrior roared; Chakotay swung and pounded into the belly of a second warrior, then his eyes exploded again as the butt of a rifle broke the skin above his temple. Crying out, he sagged to the floor, then was pulled up roughly while feeling the blows raining on his body.

Chakotay knew Evek was watching...

He knew his nose was broken. He felt the crack of a rib and couldn't breathe, every attempt causing a sharp stab that made him dizzy again. He couldn’t fight them anymore as they stripped his clothes from his body. Then they pulled at the chain and locket round his neck.

"Wait!"

Evek.

"We always take everything, Gul Evek," the warrior said, his fingers clasped round the locket.

"Not this one, fool."

The warrior was wise enough not to question the Gul's decision.

_Awake! For morning in the bowl of night..._

His mind grasped, like outstretched arms beseeching deliverance, to the present. The present was a bed of torture. The it was hard, but Chakotay welcomed the discomfort. It made him think of something else, anything else which would subjugate that which threatened to become his master. Think of Kathryn, he ordered himself as he stirred on the bed. Think of Hannah...Winonah... Winonah...where is she?

But the terror crept back into his brain, inveigled itself into becoming the master of his incoherent rambling. The faces came back, malevolent, grinning. He saw Evek's face, heard the laughter of the warriors.

Then Evek stood in front if him. He couldn't see clearly through his swollen eyes, but he knew from the smell that Evek was naked. Two hands covered the side of his head and drew him towards that nakedness.

_Do not trouble the world with your woes, my son..._

No words. Just a rough opening of his mouth and flesh invading him.

_Alive, I am dead..._

No words.

Chakotay would hear the grunts, the coarse coaxing in an alien language, the heaves and poundings into his protesting body; the  sounds would stay in his consciousness, ripple along the undulating hills and valleys of his brain and goad him, taunt him into fighting.

_B'Elanna, you could beat one or two of them...but five, six, seven...?_

There was a bed of sorts in that room.

He never slept alone.

Always, a body forced itself on him, stretching his flesh, never allowing him to close his eyes and sleep. And the smell would remain. Sedeka - Seska – had smelled Cardassian.

Where was the fight? Where was the fight?

Once, Evek spoke.

"Try anything, Chakotay, and you will see retribution..."

He knew that Kathryn and her crew would be endangered.

Always, an armed warrior or two, in case he tried to fight.

"Open your mouth."

Kneeling on the floor, he turned his face away from engorged flesh. Then two hands would grab his head and lead him to it. Like a listless child not wanting to eat, the flesh would nudge, nudge, nudge, never forced - for that had long been dispatched with - and slowly the flesh would find a path past torn lips, teeth and settle deep inside before roving, grunting, pounding...

"My turn..."

"My turn..."

"My turn..."

"My turn..."

Those words became the litany of the dammed.

In the night, a hand would press him to go down on all fours...

Seconds later, invasion, crude and bestial.

"Now, Chakotay, this is how Sedeka liked me," Evek would say some nights when he stayed the whole night. On his hands and knees the gul’s body would cover his; Evek would ride him and whisper close to his ear, "you killed my abhail and I need a distraction, you understand?"

When Chakotay didn't reply, Evek would grunt into his body for several minutes, then suddenly stop.

"You understand?"

Chakotay wouldn't reply.

Then an enraged Evek, too fired up in his bestial passion, would punish his body. Afterwards, Evek would lie next to him and caress his face. Chakotay would recoil from the caress, but knew it was impossible to offer resistance. His rib had not healed properly, and his nose had been broken again.

"Think of Kathryn, Chakotay, how sensual it is with her," Evek's words would mist across his cheek as he lay spooned behind Chakotay. "It's good, isn't it?" Then Evek's hands would find his own flesh and stroke it. Chakotay fought, fought the urges, images of Kathryn sensually sidling against him, punishing his senses.

_What shall it be tonight, Kathryn? Nice or not so nice?_

Fight it, Chakotay. Fight it. Fight it. Fight...

The hand and fingers would become gentle around him, and when Kathryn's sighs once more clamoured in his brain, he lost the fight. Evek would give a cry of victory as Chakotay's flesh became hard in his hands.

When it was over, Chakotay refused to shed a tear.

Some days, Evek would enter the room with two or three other warriors.

Disengage yourself, Chakotay. Feel not the shame...Feel not the humiliation.

A mouth would cover his flesh and coaxing him to arousal and with gross carnal pleasure, extract his fluid from him.

Fight...

Fight..

When the three left, Evek would spoon himself against Chakotay again. Tiredness. Sleep. Unable to keep his eyes open. Fingers curling around him, leaving him flaccid. Sleep...

Always, he knew Evek. Sometimes, God help him, he couldn't help himself as Evek coaxed him and he gave and gave. Fingers curling round his flesh, stroking, his own gasps as he reached the edge, then Evek's little cry of pleasure as he came. He had become used to Evek's body, spooned to his during the night, stimulating him, two bodies writhing. Sometimes, as a reward, Evek would allow Chakotay to ride his mouth or his body once Evek had stroked him to a stiffness so that he couldn't protest anymore.

Once, he tried to fight Evek, tried to fight back, refusing the gul any entrance to his body. Then, there was only a word, a command, and Evek would leave, replaced by three warriors who punished his body for hours. When they were done, Evek would return.

"That is so you will reject their bodies and accept mine..." he whispered against Chakotay's ears. Then Evek would enfold his flaccid shaft in his big hand and stroke gently until he got it stiff again.

"You want me..."

A tear would escape and run hotly down shamed cheeks as he allowed the caress until a frenzied few minutes later, Evek's body would be joined to his. They would lie gasping afterwards and with his body clasped against Evek, they would fall into a slumber.

Dream of Kathryn... Dream of Kathryn...

Open your mouth, Chakotay.

Bend down.

Somewhere, he heard music, beautiful, celestial music that seemed to come down from the very portals of heaven. In his head it rolled gently into soft pianissimo, cadences of voices. Once, Kathryn had played it for him.

"Do you like it, Chakotay?"

"What is it?" he asked, more intrigued by the harmony of voices and melodious chords.

"It's called a _kyrie."_

"Greek?"

"Yes."

Only later, he would learn the meaning of _kyrie eleison_.

_Lord, have pity..._

_****_

**Lachrymosa**

Chakotay groaned, his mind heavy with troubled thoughts of Evek. The journey from the Badlands to Cardassia Prime had taken a month. He wanted his treatment at Evek's hands to become a blur, a haze in which life in the Obedience Room was surreal; he could try and disengage himself standing outside his body looking at how they ravaged him. He could be dispassionate and think it was happening to another Chakotay, someone whose misfortune it was to have a similar name, or a similar tattoo. He could look with detachment how the other Chakotay was brought to arousal and how they would bring in Cardassian female warriors to draw his seed from him. He could look impassively at how the other Chakotay, forced, beaten, tortured into submission, eventually gave up and allowed the warriors to use his body, every day, every night. That Chakotay allowed Gul Evek to fondle, to coax, to rouse him into a terrible, agonising, shameful frenzy. That Chakotay allowed Gul Evek to bed with him most nights.

"You killed Sedeka. This is your punishment," Evek would say while he grunted above Chakotay.

"This is only my body," Chakotay would reply.

Then Evek would show the other Chakotay just how much his body belonged to him, and the other Chakotay, too tired to disengage himself from the reality of being mated with a Cardassian gul, would respond, for how, when memories of Kathryn assailed him, could he prevent his body from reacting? Evek never beat him, or tortured him into submission. That task belonged to warriors who would soften up and prepare the other Chakotay until he lay helpless on the mattress; then Evek would send them all off and remain behind.

Chakotay could look then at the other Chakotay and hate him. The luxury of that emotion soon became a necessity. Every time he pictured the Obedience Room, he was filled with hatred, revulsion and, guilt and shame. Mostly humiliation that he had become so weak. That way it was easy to put the blame on another person.

Sometimes, the two Chakotays fused into one, and he would become himself, standing once again inside his own conscience and consciousness, and feeling intense self-loathing.

He had been glad when they arrived at Cardassia Prime.

"So, Chakotay, I leave you here at the Science Institute, with Doctor Brogandor," Evek said, smiling as he escorted Chakotay off the Vetar. Chakotay had been dressed for the first time, and he felt uneasy in the coarse fabric of Cardassian clothes, more because his body had become accustomed to being naked. He was able to walk, his nose that had been broken a second time, had healed. He was still not able to breathe properly and he suspected that the cracked rib must have pressed against his lung tissue. The rib had knitted too in the last weeks, with the latest injury inflicted by one of Evek's warriors treated by Evek himself. Three cracked ribs and a concussion...

"You're leaving," Chakotay said sarcastically, sensing that Evek's 'work' with him was finished.

"We have a war to win, Chakotay," Evek said calmly as if nothing in the past month had happened between them. "Therefore, the Vetar must be about its business. I have avenged my sons and my lover. That is enough."

"I don't think you're finished, Evek. I can see it in your eyes. But you were instructed to bring me here, weren’t you? You could have killed me. So the great Evek must bow to a higher order."

Chakotay had known from his conversations with Sedeka that Evek, like all other guls, reported to the Cardassian High Council. Therefore, instead of killing Chakotay outright, Evek had to carry out orders. Those orders were to bring Chakotay to the Science Institute. He saw how Evek pursed his lips, but the glint in his eyes told Chakotay that the gul was going to try something else, if he couldn't get Chakotay. He had shuddered that day, thinking that Voyager might still be in danger. Voyager and Kathryn... Chakotay thought that Evek had no conscience, yet he beat up the warriors who attempted to remove the locket from Chakotay's neck.

Many nights - every night, he supposed - he clung to Kathryn's locket with Kathryn and Hannah's pictures. Those nights when he had the strength to open it, he would stare for hours at their smiling faces. Many times he would caress their faces and tell himself that he was fine, that one day he would be free again and be home with his family. He pictured their smiling faces, Kathryn leaning forward to plant a kiss on his nose, Hannah screeching with glee when he blew bubbles against her soft belly. He pictured Kathryn and Hannah as he’d seen them on Kathryn's birthday. Both sleeping peacefully, and the lines of strain gone from Kathryn's face, even if only temporarily.

By the time Evek left the Science institute, Chakotay had been glad. No more was he fodder for Cardassian sexual depravities, and even if he were to endure the most excruciating torture, it would be better that being a slave to their grotesque sexual demands.

On the Vetar he was tortured to bring him to submission, so that he couldn't fight anymore. On the Vetar he was brought to submission in a manner that made him hate himself, feeling the constant shame burning him up. On the Vetar, the only thing he could hold on to, to maintain his sanity, was Kathryn’s locket, which he’d clutched like a man drowning. 

Chakotay gave another soft groan as a wave of pain spiralled through him. His body was constantly on fire. The high bed was hard and uncomfortable, yet it served to keep his mind away from what had been done to him here.

He tried to recite passages from his beloved _Rubáiyát_ :

_Awake! For Morning in the Bowl of Night..._

But new voices, voices even more terrifying and sinister than all of Evek's warriors, penetrated his consciousness. Chakotay moved his head away from the voices, an involuntary gesture that made him wince again in pain.

Voices of doctors - butchers - and their assistants...

"This subject has a good body, and sound constitution..."

_Wrong. My body is wasted...What would you want with a wasted body?_

"Then I think  Prisoner 0099 will do for this morning."

He had lain on the high bed and extensive tests had been conducted, his arms in restraints.  Brogandor looked down at him.

"I see you have had injuries to your ribs." Chakotay had only nodded. What more could they want to know? "And," Brogandor continued, "you have suffered multiple fractures to your left leg. Indications are you incurred this injury about three years ago." Chakotay turned cold at the tone of Brogandor's voice. He balled his fists, beads of perspiration trickling down his face and settling in his neck. He had no time to consider that it was ticklish or think of the discomfort. Chakotay closed his eyes as he felt Brogandor's breath close to his face. "Then, Prisoner 0099, you appear to have a high tolerance..."

_For pain..._

They broke his legs. Like skewers, spikes were driven through skin and bone. The first wave of pain hit him suddenly as he realised that they were scraping sensitive nerves and crushing his bones. How many did they drive into his legs? He lost count. His lips bled that day and he’d tasted his own blood, warm and sticky as his body arched off the bed.

He knew pain.

No anaesthetic, no warning to soften any blows, no kind words. They wanted him to howl his torment. Did his sweat turn to blood? He was certain of it, else how could something flow towards the corners of his mouth and taste like it was blood?

"Good. All the spikes are in, Doctor."

Then Chakotay started to vibrate on the bed, and arched high off it as he heard what must have been a thousand cracks simultaneously. He never lost consciousness, never screamed in agony. Did they flick a switch somewhere that activated the pins to fracture his bone into tiny fragments? In retrospect, he realised he was giving them more ammunition. If he howled continuously, who knew? They might have given him a little reprieve. Instead, he just groaned, pursing his lips that were already raw the way he bit them, and writhing as every nerve in his body was on fire with pain.

Then, the slow impulses afterwards, electrical shocks to his legs and brain. Another person had entered the room and stood next to the bed. How had he not seen that there was another Cardassian? From his uniform, even through the glaze of agony, Chakotay noticed that he was probably superior in rank to a gul.

"Prisoner 0099. Chakotay, Starfleet, formerly Commander of the USS Ormskirk, turned Maquis."

"What the hell do you want?" Chakotay hissed through clenched teeth as he balled his fists.

"Destroyed Cardassian munitions factories."

He wasn't going to admit it, he was still thinking when another salvo of shocks ripped his body from the bed.

"Tell us where the next strike of the Federation will be, Chakotay."

That was when Chakotay realised why Gul Evek was under instruction to keep him alive.

"I tell you nothing, fool."

"It would be wise to speak, Prisoner 0099."

"You'll get nothing from me."

"What are the specifications of the USS Prometheus?"

Chakotay, too dazed to think clearly, groaned when the electric shocks rippled through him again.

"I know nothing," he responded instinctively. "Nothing, you hear?"

"The Prometheus, Prisoner 0099. Tell us what you know."

"And I tell you I don't know!"

Later, he couldn't determine what the time delay was - each series of shocks fused to become one long agonising journey to the very portals of hell. He wasn't going to tell them that Tom Paris had designed specs for a brand new vessel with revolutionary capabilities. The admirals’ last communication with Chakotay had been to inform him that he might be taking command of the new vessel as soon as it was completed at the Utopia Planitia shipyards. They had been thinking about granting reprieves to the Maquis and get them working again within the Federation during the war. No one knew this, and Cardassian spies were everywhere.

"How many vessels like the Prometheus are they building?"

"I know nothing."

Then the shock treatment began again, when they drove needles through his skull.

Once, a bright flash surrounded him and he saw Kathryn. Had he lost consciousness? He couldn't decide. All he knew was that the pain must have been pushed aside. He saw Kathryn and they were walking along a beach with palms.

"Where are we, Chakotay?" Kathryn asked. She had worn a white slack suit and he a loose fitting jacket and trousers. She had given him an amused smile when he told her to dress for the occasion.

"Venice Beach, 1996."

"Venice Beach? California? The area drowned after the last quakes."

"Yes. I wanted to bring you here. Naturally, if you want to be alone without all the rollerbladers and skate boarders and other...er..."

"I want to be alone, Chakotay..." Kathryn purred as she leaned into him and rested her head against his broad chest.

"With me."

"Naturally."

"And we get to do things..."

"Naturally.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Only about a hundred times, Chakotay."

Then she raised her face to him and he was overcome with the wonder of loving her. The sun's rays threw glints of gold off her hair, her smile dazzled and when he lowered his head to kiss her, she gave a contented little moan as their lips touched.

After the kiss, they found a secluded spot and again, Kathryn raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Chakotay."

"Hmmm?"

"We're in the holodeck of the Crimond."

"Yes," he replied, distracted by Kathryn's smile and the sultry look in her eyes.

"You just deleted all the holocharacters."

"Hmmm."  He just wanted to kiss her, run his hands through her hair and feel her softness as he hugged her to him.

"So why the secluded spot?" she asked.

"Because, Kathryn, it has the ambience of delicious illicitness about it. We're away from prying eyes..."

"Nonsense - "

"Shut up, and kiss me, Kate."

Then the images vanished and the pain returned. He had lain on the bed, gasping.

"Take the Prisoner away," said a voice. He didn't care anymore who spoke.

He had been thrown in a cell, his legs crushed, although the spikes had been removed. He had lain on his stomach, breathing heavily and willing away the agony of aching legs.

"Better turn over, sir, and let me straighten your legs..." The voice sounded cultured and Chakotay lifted his head and turned dazedly in the direction of the voice. The face was a blur although after several seconds staring at the face, the blur cleared. The man looked Ketarchan, Chakotay thought. By the stranger's address Chakotay assumed that he was aware of Chakotay's identity and rank.

"Who - who are you?"

"I am Captain Gredor, of the USS Pendennis," replied the prisoner.

"I - I am - "

"I know. Captain Chakotay, Maquis cell leader."

Chakotay nodded and turned onto his back, trying to sit up straight and brace himself against the wall. Now he could see there were two beds in the cell. He looked at the bed and when Gredor saw him, he moved to help Chakotay onto the bed.

"My legs - "

"They must be broken in a thousand pieces, Captain. The spikes are designed to shatter the bone and usually fifteen spikes are driven through."

"You haven't - ?"

Gredor smiled grimly as he kept Chakotay's legs straight for several minutes.

"No, they haven't done that to me, Captain. I was useful for other, creative purposes...

"I...understand," Chakotay ventured.

"Perhaps...not," Gredor said as he left to lie on his own bed, resting his head on his arms. "I happen to have replicated lungs, kidneys, a spleen, after they punctured every organ to test how long I would survive."

"Yet they kept you alive."

"Yes," Gredor had sighed, "they're keeping us alive. There's something afoot. I don't know what they're planning - "

"How many are here, at this facility?" Chakotay asked, giving a groan when he shifted.

"Including you? One hundred and fifty prisoners, all Starfleet, Captain."

**** 

Chakotay came with a jerk to the present. That first day when Gredor spoke with him, he had learned that there were a hundred and fifty prisoners who had been captured during skirmishes with Cardassian vessels. One hundred and fifty prisoners, guinea pigs for Cardassian butchers' experiments. Two of the prisoners had legs amputated... Their numbers had already shrunk to just over one hundred. More would die.

How long had he been here?

He had been brought every second day to the table where they drilled spikes through his body to test his tolerance for pain He dreamed often of Kathryn and Hannah; sometimes others entered into those dreams and he'd see Sekaya, or Admiral Paris or his own father or Admiral Ponsonby. Somewhere, Kathryn was on Voyager, fighting the might of the Cardassians and the Dominion. Somewhere, Kathryn was holding Hannah in her arms and thinking of him. He wanted to tell her he was still alive, and thinking of her. He wanted to reach her in his silent quests and assure her that he'd be back with his family again, no matter how battered his body was.

At some point he learned that the Dominion had turned on the Cardassians, yet here the prisoners were, as if the Cardassians were denying they were losing the war, and continuing their experiments.

He had been brought in again today. After the first few times when they broke his legs - experiments to test how long bone could take to knit without any medical or orthopaedic intervention - they reset the bones, although it was excruciating to walk. He had longed again for the crutches he had used on the Ormskirk, when they helped him to move about and to take weight off his aching leg while it healed. Sergei’d had to break his leg several times because the bones weren't knitting correctly.. Now, his legs were just two appendages that trailed behind him when he tried to walk.

_"And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,_

_Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,_

_Lift not thy hands to It for help - for It_

_Rolls impotently on as Thou or I."_

The latest pain regime... He had given up wondering what purpose any experiment was for. The Cardassian doctors were no more than butchers who had begun to derive diabolical pleasure in simply inflicting torture and mutilating prisoners. Maybe there never was a time they had any honour and doctor's integrity in them.

One night he had been thrown back in his cell, to find Gredor lying face down in a pool of blood. Forgetting his own pain, dragging his unwilling legs to where Gredor lay, he turned over the comatose man. Chakotay had cried out in agony as he looked at Gredor's face. They had cut away the protuberances on his forehead. Gredor must have been fully alert when they cut him up. Chakotay took a rough cloth from under the bed and gently wiped away the blood.

Gredor had slowly regained consciousness, whimpering with pain as he became aware of it. For hours Chakotay held his friend, for they had become friends, and rocked him until the pain had receded to a low throbbing. He had stemmed the flow of blood and soon after, Gredor had fallen into a restless sleep.

Chakotay had met some of the other prisoners. The Inquisitor had given up questioning Chakotay; after several days of electric shock treatment and crushing the bones in his legs, but still not getting any information out of him, he declared sullenly, "Doctor, you may do as you wish with this patient..."

How long had they been here? How long? Weeks? Months? The days had meshed into a never-ending darkness in which he constantly kept himself alert by thinking of his family. Though his arms were in restraints, he always imagined he was caressing Kathryn's locket, always thinking of her and thinking of their baby.

There were days he wanted to scream his agony and give in to the butchers and do their bidding. Just like on the Vetar, when beaten into submission and eventually giving in to Evek, he wanted to do the same with the doctors who were mutilating them. One of the guards told him they dumped the bodies of prisoners who’d died just outside the Medical facility of the Science Institute.  No one could tell where the bodies were disposed of, or how. Gredor, whose  grotesque and misshapen face had healed to the point where he could at least breathe through his nose, was still alive. It would be possible to do corrective surgery on his face, but they had to get back home first.

Get back home...

"We must stay alive, for their sakes," Gredor told him, referring to the young prisoners whose emaciated bodies were rotting but who had been left to die from their privation. With Gredor who refused to give up, the two of them tried to comfort other prisoners, and though Chakotay had been worse off than others, he would drag his body to a fellow prisoner and help him through his dying moments.

Yes, there were days he wanted to cry out in agony, but kept himself from doing so. They called him stubborn; they called him arrogant and strong; they told him he defied all known parameters of pain thresholds. What the hell was that? It affected each individual differently. They had shaken their heads and given up on him. Now, his legs, misshapen from the constant abuse, had healed too, bones irregularly knitted, but there was less pain. Sometimes his head felt like it could burst open. What they had done to his head, he didn't know, but during the last weeks the constant agony was so bad he wanted to drive a spear through his skull and cut out the malevolent intruder.

Never did he shed a single tear.

One night, lying on the rough bed in his cell, he tried to blank out the screams of other inmates who were being tested. He clutched at the locket and closed his eyes, imagining he was seeing Winonah.

_One day, when you find her, make her our daughter..._

He might never see them again.

Don't think of a worst case scenario, he chided himself. He was going to see them again. Phoebe, with her angry face, Gretchen who’d always loved him, Admiral Ponsonby who looked on him as a son, Hannah who screeched when he tickled her tummy, Kathryn who loved to read. He pictured her sitting in the lounge of their apartment.

"So, you're reading _Persuasion_   again?" he had asked her.

"Hmmm."

Kathryn had been sitting in his big chair, the one she’d had specially manufactured for him, the one she always joked no one else but Chakotay would sit and relax in. The sun had been shining brightly that day and Kathryn had been quiet, restful. She also took no notice of him.

"What's it about?" he asked. He had a very vague idea, as he was more into reading his _Rubáiyát,_ but he couldn't resist anticipating the look on her face when she lowered the book to smile at him. He always liked her smile. He had drowned in it the first time she’d opened her door for him half a lifetime ago.

"Oh, it's about six hours of reading pleasure."

He loved it when she teased him.

"Looks like you're into the first hour of it."

Then Kathryn had looked up. That was the moment he’d caught her. Her hair glinted in the light of the sun's rays that flooded the lounge, and with the way her head tilted as she turned to face him, and the slight smile, Kathryn looked as mysterious as La Giaconda. Mysterious and beautiful.

Later that day, he showed her the painting.

He called it _Kathryn in the Light_...

Chakotay closed his eyes and somehow, a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek.

_**_

**Sanctus**

Chakotay was brought to the present by a hand that shook him roughly.

"Wha- what?"

He wondered what was happening as they freed his hands from the restraints. He looked at the other beds, fifteen in all, and saw the others were also freed from their shackles. For a moment hope flared wildly inside him, and the fire that already raged in his body, intensified. In the next instant, he felt a thin prick in his neck.

"This is the final stage of the treatment," the doctor said, grinning evilly.

Chakotay turned to look at the other prisoners and saw that they too, were given some kind of injection.

"What is it?" he asked Brogandor.

"You need not know. Now, collect your belongings."

They had very little. He had none, except the clothes he wore, and Kathryn's locket round his neck. He could never understand why they didn't rip it off and destroy it. Chakotay ambled with back to his cell, where Gredor was already waiting for him.

"Where are we going?" he asked Gredor.

"I wish I knew. I'm feeling sick, Chakotay. That injection... Did they poison us?"

"Move! Move!" came the guard's voice. Gredor pulled Chakotay's arm round his neck and braced him as they walked out to the cell. "Hurry!"

Chakotay looked at Gredor and saw the beads of sweat in his neck. Chakotay knew he looked the same. Already he felt feverish, the pain in his head unbearable, but with Gredor's help they managed to move forward.

After what seemed like an hour later, they were all transported to a ship, and unceremoniously bundled into the cargo holds. They were being taken somewhere, taken off Cardassia Prime. Was the planet under attack? Why were they taken off? he wondered.

One prisoner, whom Chakotay didn't recognise, was seated next to him.

"Warp 7, it feels like, Captain," he offered. His voice sounded hoarse and his face looked battered. He too, had the same feverish look as the other prisoners.

"You're a pilot?" Chakotay asked, his own voice strained.

"Aye, Captain. Chief helm of the USS Excelsior."

"You know me?"

"Aye, sir. We heard that a Captain Chakotay had been brought to Cardassia Prime as a prisoner." The young man was out of breath when he finished, and his chest heaved. "I trained...under...you at the Academy..."

"What is your name, son?" Chakotay asked. They had rarely been brought into contact with other prisoners, and Chakotay had met only about half of them. Most he didn't know. This young man's voice had an oddly familiar tone to it.

"Freyne...Freyne Detroit, sir..."

Chakotay leaned forward, away from the wall and turned to look properly at Freyne. He would never have recognised him, he thought with some anger. The face looked misshapen, almost like Gredor's, but Freyne Detroit was human...What had they done to him?

"Freyne..."

"Yes, sir."

"He's appears very ill, Chakotay," Gredor spoke next to him as he too, leaned over to look at Freyne. Chakotay nodded, his own head wanting to burst. He was building up a fever very fast.

"I don't want to die...sir," Freyne said heavily.

Chakotay touched Freyne's forehead, remembered the young man who had been so excited at the time when they trained and performed the Epileng Cross Manoeuvre. Freyne had spoken then about his friend Tom Paris, whom he swore was the best pilot in the quadrant.

"Freyne, now listen to me, will you?"

Freyne nodded, turning his face so that he looked Chakotay in the eyes. In the half light of the cargo bay, Chakotay saw the fever, the shaking hands. He took the pilot’s hand in his, and hardly noticing that Gredor had crawled to where a few other prisoners were huddled together, he gave the trembling hand a reassuring squeeze.

"We're all going to get out of here. All of us, you hear me? Not a single prisoner will be left behind. You can be half dying on your feet, but we're all in this, and all of us will survive..." Freyne's eyes closed. Chakotay shook him, the action making his head spin and leaving him dizzy. When Freyne opened his eyes, Chakotay bit out, "You hear me?"

"Aye...sir..."

"Good. My guess is they're going to dump us somewhere. We've outlived our usefulness for them, but they're not giving us back. Before Cardassia is overrun by the Dominion or the Federation, they'll get rid of us first."

"H-How did you know, sir?" asked another prisoner, sitting close by.

"They thought I was unconscious... I listened, caught odd phrases. Cardassia is losing the war..."

"Our people will look for us..."

"Yes. They will."

Chakotay sagged back against the wall, not letting go of the almost comatose Freyne's hand. He didn’t dare lose hope. They were looking up to him and Gredor, the most senior officers amongst the prisoners. With his free hand, he clutched at Kathryn's locket again and brought it to his lips, closing his eyes as he did so. Death was a Foe they all had to beat. They couldn't have survived the death camp only to die in a little known, little explored star system, ignominiously coming to their ends as nameless soldiers, nowhere recognised, nowhere remembered, nowhere buried. Kathryn would remain in his thoughts and on her he would focus with his last breath, every bone in his body, every fibre that threatened to expire, so that he could live.

Yet, as he held the locket to his lips, he could feel the fever overtaking his body. He knew without a doubt that they had all been infected with some alien virus. A slow death, he realised, consistent with Cardassian torture methods, and somewhere they were going to be left to die. A great tiredness descended on him. He tried to keep awake, to focus, but the violent throbbing in his head, the heat that was busy eating him up, slowed him down, made him weak again, too weak to fight. He closed his eyes.

_Wake up, sleepy head._

Keep awake! Awake!

_Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night_

_Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to flight:_

_And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught_

_The Sultan's turret in a noose of gold._

 

Wake up. Keep awake, Chakotay.

Then his eyes opened, and the other prisoners, all lying unconscious or sitting against the bulkheads became a blur as he tried to focus. But no image sharpened. With a start, he realised that he was still holding Freyne Detroit's hand.

"Keep awake, Freyne. We will get out of this..."

"Yes...sir..."

"Good."

_The spirits protect me, Kathryn. I will get through this. I will..._

_*****_

Jarok was a D-class planet. The thin air made breathing difficult, and it was already difficult to inhale as Chakotay's chest constricted with a sharp pain. He coughed for several seconds, big wracking coughs that the force of which brought him to his knees. He had tried to stand, but his legs, crooked from the way the bones had knitted, were too weak to hold him up.

"Leave me," he barked as one of the prisoners tried to help him. "We must find shelter."

"Already seen something, sir, that could help," one prisoner said.

"It should shield us from the sun, and there's water," Gredor said, as he ignored Chakotay's injunction to leave him alone and calmly braced his friend. They moved slowly in the direction of the outcrops and the few trees about a hundred metres from where they had been beamed down. Chakotay coughed again, and Gredor stood still, waiting for the bout to subside. He had the fever too, but he was in better shape than many of the prisoners.

Two hours later, all were huddled together in smaller groups, never so far where that they couldn't see the next person. Minutes earlier, two prisoners had approached him. Even now, as Chakotay lay reclining against the trunk of a tree, he wondered how the prisoners had been allowed to keep some of their possessions. He seriously doubted it could be attributed to the good nature of the Cardassian guards; more likely they’d hidden their prized possessions very well.That he kept his own locket was a directive from Evek as a reminder of what he’d lost.

"Captain Chakotay..."

"Yes?"

He looked at the two, both human, both of whose faces were puffy. Already their skins showed signs of a haemorrhagic fever.

"My name is Lieutenant Anderson of the USS Newcastle."

"Here, sir, we thought you might have a use for this," said the other. "I'm Ensign Waldorff, Captain."

Anderson gave him a PADD.

"I have recorded the names of every prisoner alive, Captain, and the names of the fifty-five who died on Cardassia..."

Chakotay's eyes, bleary and heated from the fever, widened.

"I will not ask how you kept this away from them, Lieutenant. Thank you. You wish for me to keep a record of all other reports here."

"Aye, Captain."

Waldorff had a cloth bag from which he pulled a book.

"I heard you once, sir, recite verses from this book," said he, "and I would like you to keep it for me, sir."

Chakotay frowned as he caressed the gold embossed letters on the rich leather-bound book.

"Why?"

"I - I thought, sir, if - if in the event of my death… I have no family... You must keep this book."

"Waldorff, sit down here," Chakotay commanded. When the young ensign was seated next to him, Chakotay gripped his shoulder. "Here, alone on this godforsaken world, we are your family, Waldorff. Haven't you heard a word I said? These prisoners here, they are your brothers. Never forget that, will you? Now this book, I appreciate your offer, but I cannot keep it for myself, okay?"

"Why not, s-sir?" Waldorff stammered.

"Because we are going to make it. Right now, Federation vessels are on their way to Jarok."

"But - but the book, sir, it belonged to my grandmother - "

"All the more reason you should keep it. I'll hold on to it for you, if that's okay, since my own copy..." Chakotay sighed, then winced as a sharp pain stabbed his chest again. When he calmed again, his voice was softer, kinder, "You will get home again, son, and you will marry and then you will introduce your children and their children to Omar Khayyám's Rubáiyát. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"You okay, Waldorff?" Chakotay asked.

Waldorff nodded his head slowly.

"I will get home again...sir."

There was enough water, they discovered, and while all of them could manage to drink, the exercise of just swallowing proved difficult; Chakotay fell back exhausted after he had dragged his body to the nearest waterpoint, only about fifty meters away. They needed shade and they needed water. For now, it was enough. His legs had stopped aching, but it was his head he wished could drop off his body. It felt swollen, foreshadowing the onset of nausea. He rested his body against the same trunk he had chosen as his spot. The men were brave, tested beyond their strength, but they were holding up, whatever the degree of the affliction each one had. All were suffering from raging fevers brought on by the injections they were given before being removed from Cardassia Prime. Chakotay's fingers felt for the book Waldorff had given him. He grimaced as he held it up, trembling fingers opening it till his hand fell on the Rubáiyát he was looking for.

He rested his head against the trunk, closed his eyes, seeing the words move rhythmically, like pearls, across the page...

_The Moving Finger writes; and,  having writ,_

_Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit_

_Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line_

_Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it._

What would he change of his life? How could he change anything? If he had never gone and knocked on Kathryn's door, who knew whether any of what he had experienced since meeting her would have taken place? Would his life have followed a different path? That was certain, as if another Chakotay walked along that path, where there was no Kathryn; therefore, there would be no love, no Hannah, none of the things that had enriched this Chakotay's life because of Kathryn. She became his destiny, and his destiny was woven forever with hers. They were two, they were one, they were Kathryn and Chakotay.

If he wished all of what happened to be obliterated from his life, then there would be no Kathryn.

_Alive, I am dead without my Kathryn..._

He wanted her; he could not imagine the rest of his days without her. If he’d never met her, he would never have known that he could love another being like the very breath of his life.

_I cannot cancel half a line..._

He was brought back to the present when he heard a prisoner groan loudly.

"Let me die... It's too much! Too much!"

Chakotay looked in that direction and saw two others who were trying to comfort Freyne Detroit.

The other two looked at him as he crawled to where Freyne lay.’

"His condition has worsened, Captain," said one.

"The pain is too much for him, Captain," said the other.

"I'll stay with him," Chakotay responded, his own voice sounding weary.

"Captain? Captain..."

"It's alright, Freyne. Help is coming..."

"How do you know, Captain?" Freyne asked, then groaned again as his body arched.

"Because I know. Just believe it, will you?"

Freyne shook his head, the look in his eyes pathetic in its need to be consoled and reassured. He grasped Chakotay's hand and held on to him like a man drowning. Chakotay lay back, exhausted. His body was drenched in sweat, and his legs had started to ache again with a fierce intensity. He grit his teeth as he stifled a moan. He looked around him, saw many of the prisoners, some of whom he had only just come to know, lying prone, or curled up. Some, he could see, were experiencing tremors. They had no medication, no relief. If help didn't arrive soon... He sighed. In the morning, there might be more who had succumbed to their privation and pain. That thought alone made him grasp for the PADD Anderson had given him. Soon he occupied himself with studying the details of each prisoner, and adding a few more notes.

Amidst intense pain he began to detail the treatment, torture and methods applied by the Cardassian doctors. Everything he could remember, he jotted down. It was necessary that the Federation know just what manner of sadistic animals the Cardassians were. They honoured nothing, believed in nothing and had a total disregard for human dignity and life. He had seen the results of their work, had come face to face with unbearable atrocities committed by them. Chakotay looked around him, saw everyone still lying quietly, waiting. Later, he knew, they had to get some fires going to prepare for a long, cold night. None of them had adequate covering and he feared that there might be more dead in the morning.

Still, Chakotay continued his witness of what he’d experienced and what others had experienced at the hands of the Cardassians. Leaving nothing out of what he remembered, even in the haze of continual pain, he wrote on. A record must be left, he knew. A record of one hundred men who lived to witness the deeds of the enemy.

They would survive to tell the tale.

Come early evening, Chakotay rose heavily to his feet, stumbling as he tried to stand up straight, and addressed the men.

"We must start some fires. You know what groups you are in. Each group has been appointed a leader. Be back here in half an hour..."

It didn't take that long to collect wood. Gredor, who currently looked the ablest of the lot, started rubbing two sticks, using the dry twigs as kindling. That way, once one fire was started, they could all start their own from the first one.

One by one, the fires came to life, all in a large circle, with ten men sitting or lying round each fire. Chakotay was satisfied. They had no food, but the water that was available would last for some time. In the morning, they could start scouting around for food. Those who moved around still, were eager to help and it warmed Chakotay's heart when he saw how they assisted one another, especially those who couldn't walk. Chakotay had wanted Freyne in his group; Anderson and Waldorff were put in charge of their groups. Gredor had some of the sickest men in his.

"I'm fitter than most, Chakotay," he said without boasting, "and I can help more of the sickest amongst us. They're holding on. These are tough men..."

"I know. We will get home, Gredor."

Chakotay admired Gredor. Most of his face had been cut away, or at least, his great ridges and the scale-like protuberance from his jaw into his neck were sawn off.. Yet Gredor remained upbeat, very different now from the almost dying man who had been thrown back in their cell and left to die. If Gredor said they'd live, he'd uproot all the trees and move the great outcrop in the distance just to prove it.

"Chakotay..."

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Gredor's voice sounded concerned, and Chakotay waved it away.

"I'll survive, Gredor, if that's what's troubling you."

"They gave you a double dose of whatever they injected us with," Gredor said, his voice low that the others couldn't hear.

"I know. I have been having...excruciating headaches, Gredor," he admitted to his friend.

"And it's getting worse. You're burning up with fever, my friend. All the others...it seems to have halted. They don't look like their conditions are deteriorating."

"Then I'm glad. In the morning, we can search for food..."

"Chakotay..."

Chakotay was looking at Gredor, but his friend's face blurred for a moment. He became dizzy, and when Gredor's hand gripped his shoulder, he opened his eyes, a tired movement he was unable to mask.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about that locket..."

"I thought I did..."

"Tell me again."

"My wife. She's the Captain of Voyager - "

"That new vessel?"

"Yes..."

"They'll come, Chakotay. Just keep believing it." Gredor squeezed Chakotay's shoulder and left to rejoin his own group. Chakotay grimaced. Gredor's wife was waiting for him on Ketarcha Prime. They had three young sons...

Beside him, Freyne Detroit had fallen into a restless slumber, and the other eight prisoners assigned to his group were all lying quietly. It was getting colder despite the fire and Chakotay prayed his men would last at least till the morning. They could get water, share whatever food they found and just wait. There was nothing they could do but wait and help one another, invoking the courage of all great men of the ages to help a group of helpless prisoners through their trials and get them home alive.

Chakotay closed his eyes slowly, his fingers clamped protectively around the locket. The Rubáiyát lay next to him. He hadn't wanted to tell Gredor the truth. He was afraid - afraid he might not make it; afraid that it would be too late. He was drenched from the fever.

A thousand needles stabbed into his brain, red-hot darts that ate through every nerve. Something - a spark that burst like an exploding star, lit up in his head. The image of a face that looked like Kolopak's flashed before him. Was he hallucinating?

No. He saw Kolopak as clearly as if his father was standing in front of him.

Kolopak...

_Do not fear, my son. Your courage has touched those around you. They look up to you. Lead them, as you have always done. Your strength is keeping them alive. Live, my son, so they may live._

_My body is broken, Father._

_I know. But your spirit is whole, my son._

_***_

**Benedictus**

In the early hours of the morning, when the men were still sleeping, some of them tossing restlessly, or moaning from their pain, Chakotay opened his eyes. He was experiencing convulsions, his body shaking; his fingers trembling and weak. With great difficulty he took Waldorff's book and lay it on his stomach, for he could walk no more as he dragged his body slowly up the small rise to the tree he had sat against the previous day.

Pain.

He was dazed from the pain, the coarse ground eating into his skin as his legs trailed behind him, using his elbows to drag himself centimetre by excruciating centimetre forward. Somehow, he wanted to get to his tree, away from his group. He wanted to lie there and look at the sky, see for the last time the blue that could remind him of Kathryn's eyes; see for the last time the men who had held on so steadfastly to their hopes and their dreams.

Dying might be a welcome sight after all.

_You belong with your Kathryn and your daughters, Chakotay..._

I cannot any longer...

Almost there.

The tree beckoned.

Exhausted, Chakotay reached the tree, the book falling from lifeless fingers as he gave in to the portals that opened in the skies. Why did the sky turn?

I am dying, my Kathryn...

_Chakotay, my son...never give up, never surrender._

Father.

He lay on his back, one hand still on his chest, the other outstretched as if he were reaching for something indefinable, yet something that he sensed was a life buoy. His eyes were open and strangely, the pain had receded, as if it allowed him a moment to see things clearly around him, above him, even inside his own heart.

The sky was blue, very blue, like the brilliant azure of the Aegean.

Kathryn smiled kindly at him. Hannah reached for him with eagerly outstretched little arms. Winonah... Winonah? Winonah touched his tattoo shyly, then she too, smiled a tender little smile.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

Above him, he saw the eagle, hovering, hovering, then slowly descending. Chakotay lifted his hand to touch the eagle. He saw a face, a smile, hair that shone like golden threads.

"I waited for you to come, my Kathryn..."

***********

**END CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN**

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue!

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT**

**Near the Demilitarised Zone - March 2372**

"Captain, three vessels off our starboard bow," Tom Paris said without looking back to where Kathryn Janeway was standing. Eamon Carey had also risen from his seat to stand next to her.

"Acknowledged. Harry?"

"One hundred thousand kilometers, Captain. They're closing in on us - "

"Captain, they're Cardassian vessels. One of them is the Vetar," added Magnus Rollins. Kathryn nodded grimly. Chakotay had given them the specs of the Vetar and already Magnus had scanned the vessel.

"Harry, open a hail to the Endeavour," Kathryn ordered. When Harry complied, Captain Berrol Oldimar's face appeared on the screen. "Captain, one of the three Cardassian vessels is the Vetar, commanded by Gul Evek - "

"Understood. We're right behind you, Captain Janeway," he responded with a grim smile. "Oldimar out."

"Well, Captain?" Eamon Carey asked. "We know where to target the Vetar..."

Kathryn nodded, closing her eyes briefly and silently thanking Chakotay for giving them so much intelligence about the Cardassian warships. They just had to hit their targets right the first time to disable the vessels.

"Bring us in closer, Tom. They can't hide behind that cloud forever..."

"Aye, Captain!"

Kathryn thought Tom sounded enthusiastic, ready for battle. Voyager was his creation, or most of it anyway and he knew the vessel from bow to stern, knew where every gel pack was located, and was intimately familiar with Voyager's capabilities.

She sat down again, her hands on the armrests of her chair. In a minute they would be closer to the Vetar and the other two vessels. It was the only downside of their attack -  they had to come in close to lock on to the area of the vessels where their enhanced phaser banks were located.

"Captain, we're being hailed by the Vetar," Harry said quickly, and Kathryn noticed that Harry's voice sounded nervous.

"On screen!"

"Ah, Captain Janeway!" Evek said as his face filled the screen. "If you've come looking for that infidel Chakotay... Let's say he was a model prisoner, Janeway. A model prisoner..." There was a malicious gleam in Evek's eyes, which perhaps meant more to Kathryn than the others on the bridge about what Evek could mean by that. From the Badlands, where they took Chakotay prisoner, to Cardassia Prime...the journey was about a month long. "Ah, I see you know what I mean. You're on dangerous ground, Janeway."

"No more than you are, Evek," she responded bitingly. "This is war..." She wondered if Evek knew that they were removing the prisoners from Cardassia.

"Indeed it is," he replied, and suddenly the screen went blank.

"Rollins, our other vessels - "

"Ready, on your command, Captain."

"Captain, one vessel off our port bow. They're firing!"

"Evasive manoeuvre Omega 3!"

The next moment, Tom deftly moved Voyager so that the fire only strafed her port bow.

"Target the Vetar. Lock on to her phaser banks!"

"Done, Captain."

"Fire!"

Kathryn felt a thrill go through her as she stood behind Tom Paris. A photon torpedo headed directly for the Vetar and hit her secondary hull. The next moment the vessel was rocked by a series of explosions as her own torpedoes imploded. A ball of fire lit up the area.

"One down."

"Oldimar!"

"Got it, Captain," responded Berrol Oldimar from the Endeavour. Torpedoes from the Endeavour and the USS Volga fired simultaneously, and in the next few minutes, the other Cardassian vessels were also rocked as their own torpedoes exploded and destroyed them.

"Thank you, Captain Oldimar," she said, her throat thick with emotion as she looked at the debris floating about them.

"Our pleasure, Captain Janeway. Evek is dead. He'll not trouble us again..."

Kathryn breathed a deep sigh as she returned to her command chair. Eamon leaned over to her.

"Are you alright, Captain?" he asked her.

She looked at him, for one second only allowing her heart to bleed. She patted his hand.

"Yes...yes, I'll be alright. You have the bridge, Eamon..."

Eamon Carey nodded. Kathryn rose and quickly made her way to her ready room.

"He's dead, Chakotay...Evek is dead...and we still have to find you..." she murmured softly.

In her chair behind her desk she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Evek's words cut through her, words that dripped with malice. If she thought about it, Evek looked exactly the way Sedeka had looked when she crowed about her conquest of Chakotay. Kathryn gave a little moan of distress; a sob followed. Evek didn't have to say anything more than what he’d insinuated. Chakotay had spent a month on the Vetar, a month in which... Kathryn gave another groan.

Now, one hundred prisoners were abandoned on a planet patrolled by the Jem'Hadar. Evek was gone, his vessel destroyed. The last stand of Cardassia was at an end. Back in Federation space, the final battles were being fought and the Federation gaining the upper hand at last. Even the Dominion seemed to have reached an impasse. Still, there were always the odd few, who refused to believe that they were losing, or that the war had ended, and harboured the idea that they should still fight and defend themselves. Evek and his trio of Cardassian warships were among the last to be destroyed. The signs of defeat were everywhere around them. The last prisoners who were on Cardassia were to be dumped on an alien world and left for dead... It was so consistent with the way past wars had been waged, when the aggressors, sensing defeat, destroyed all evidence, abandoned the concentration camps and left men and women and children, already defenceless, to die.

It was a spineless act, a cowardly principle that made the enemy flee when defeat was at hand. The only thing that could be said in defence - if indeed it was a final statement that there was something honourable in the enemy - was that they did not kill the prisoners outright. Could it be that the doctors - butchers who thought nothing of maiming for the sole purpose of deriving sadistic pleasure in seeing a prisoner scream out in pain finally somehow remembered they were physicians, and allowed honour and the preservation of life to motivate their actions?

If that were so, who was the lone Cardassian doctor who sought to have the prisoners located away from Cardassia Prime in the hope that they might be rescued by the Federation? If they found the prisoners on Jarok alive, who was the doctor who had saved their lives?

_Chakotay is dying, Captain..._

Ken Dalby's words. If Chakotay were dying, what was the prognosis for the ninety nine other prisoners? She knew Chakotay, a warrior imbued with the great nobility and preservation of life of his people; he would not lie down and go willingly if he knew that others' lives depended on his own will to live.

If he died...they died.

He would fight to remain alive. She knew that, sensed it deep inside her. The first time she met him was on their blind date, before he was injured. Boulders had fallen on him in the mine shaft of Moldor IV. He had been cynical about his own injuries, writing them off as an irritation he could live without. But she knew him, and even then, he had suffered those injuries so that the others on that away team could survive.

There was no reason to believe that Chakotay wouldn't do the same for his fellow prisoners now, even though he himself might be gravely injured.

_Thoughts of you, Kathryn, will keep me alive..._

Kathryn opened her eyes, surprised to find her cheeks wet. She looked at their pictures. Chakotay, now with his tattoo, smiling his dimpled smile, and one with Hannah and Winonah... While Hannah had laughed into the imager at the time, Winonah's face had been grave, and the little smile she managed was just enough to light up her face. Kathryn touched the glass with trembling fingers.

"I'll not fail you, Chakotay..." she whispered.

_*****_

"So, doctors," Kathryn addressed Sergei Karkoff and the holographic doctor. "You know what to do. We have a hundred prisoners, and because Voyager is the smallest of the five vessels, we will take only fifteen patients. The rest will be beamed to the other vessels. We've brought along auxiliary medical personnel to deal with the influx. We are assuming that all prisoners will have some degree of injury - "

"Captain, I've prepared four stasis chambers, just in case..." Sergei replied.

"Good. We have to prepare for any eventuality - "

"Captain," the EMH started, "I believe that the prisoners may have been infected with a virus of some kind - "

"What?"

"Doctor?"

Kathryn and Sergei responded simultaneously to the EMH's startling theory.

"I have been programmed with the medical knowledge of three Cardassian doctors, Captain. One of them is still alive on Cardassia Prime. It is something I believe they may have done. In that case, the prisoners are all suffering very high fevers..."

"Then it is critical that we get them out of there, Doctors," Kathryn said, her heart suddenly pounding at the EMH's revelation. They had never thought of it, although she should have known it was something the Cardassians would do. She should have known...

"On the assumption that it is so, I'll prepare enough anti-serum for all five vessels, Captain, Doctor Karkoff," the EMH said.

"Do it."

"Thank you, Captain. I'll need two science officers to assist - "

"It will be arranged."

The EMH moved away to another area of the sickbay where he prepared to set up a small laboratory.

Kathryn turned to face Sergei.

"It's a great risk, Kathryn," Sergei said softly.

"I know. We have to get past the Jem'Hadar, preferably disable all their vessels so that we have a clear passage on our return."

"We'll succeed. If only to get Chak punching me in the gym again.'

Kathryn had to smile. Sergei had sometimes sparred with him in the gym while they were both serving on the Ormskirk.

"He'll do that, Sergei. I only hope we are not too late - "

"To get all of them out alive, you mean."

"Yes. Well, you have your orders, Sergei. We're about three hours away from the Falrak Dwarf System. All Captains have been briefed."

She turned to leave.

"Kathryn."

She swung round.

"Chakotay will like your new hairstyle."

She smiled, felt something lift from her, a great weight that had bogged her down.

"My guess is, Sergei, he'll fume for a few minutes first, then accept it in good spirit..."

****  

**On the bridge of Voyager, three hours later**

Karan Tor approached the conn and Tom Paris smiled as he allowed Tor to take over from him.

"Ready, Tom?" Kathryn asked as he walked towards her.

"Aye, Captain."

"Good luck, Mr Paris."

"I'll need it, Captain," he said, as he walked quickly to the turbolift. Kathryn stood up and stared at the main viewscreen. The other four vessels were ready. They had all gone to red alert and were waiting on her command.

"Mr Rollins?"

"I expect the first Jem'Hadar vessel to appear in fifteen seconds, Captain."

"Good. Gentlemen, this is it. Let's give it our best shot."

Then suddenly, as if it just shot out of the nothingness of the black space three Jem'Hadar vessels appeared. Kathryn's heart thundered. Her hands felt clammy. She turned a glanced quickly at Harry Kim, who nodded imperceptibly before opening communication.

"Captain, Tom Paris has just left in the Delta Flyer," Rollins said, and even as he spoke, Tom positioned the Delta Flyer so that Voyager, the Charleston, the Endeavour, commanded by Berrol Oldimar, and the Ohio surrounded the Delta Flyer. The fifth Federation vessel, the Volga, commanded by the Klingon captain, was nowhere to be seen. It was the only vessel fitted with Klingon cloaking technology, for their present mission only, and they needed at least one vessel to remain unscathed during an attack in order to break through the net of the Jem'Hadar.

"Good. He'll be a sitting duck. Now, all he has to do is fire the first salvo and release the plasma..."

"You are in violation of Jem'Hadar territory," the Commander of the lead ship said. "Stand down your weapons."

"I think not. The Falrak Star System is under Cardassian rule - "

"Therefore, ours," replied the Jem'Hadar curtly. "I repeat - you will be crushed if you do not stand down weapons."

"I'm touched. I thought you would have fired by now," Kathryn retorted. She was standing in the area between the conn and the command chairs. Kathryn stole a glance at Eamon Daley, who nodded grimly.

Kathryn signalled to Harry and the next moment there was no audio.

"B'Elanna is ready to engage the transporter on your signal, Captain."

"Good."

Kathryn hit her commbadge.

"Voyager to Paris."

"I'm ready, Captain."

"On my mark, fire, then release the Flyer's plasma. That should confuse the Jem'Hadar for about ten seconds. All vessels, on the alert!"

Kathryn saw only the mouth of the Jem'Hadar commander move. She raised a hand.

"Tom, now!"

Tom fired a furious salvo at the lead Jem'Hadar vessel, before releasing the plasma. In the second following all three Jem-Hadar fired at the dead-in-the-water Delta Flyer.

"B'Elanna, have you got him?"

"Aye, Captain. Not a moment too soon," B'Elanna Torres replied as they watched the Delta Flyer explode.

"On my mark, maximum warp, now!"

Four Federation vessels engaged maximum warp and before the Jem-Hadar could respond, they were gone, leaving only faint ion trails. Ten seconds later, they reappeared, surrounding the three Jem'Hadar vessels. Kathryn gave a satisfied nod when the Volga, fitted with a Klingon cloaking device, also appeared. Now the enemy vessels were in the centre of the cross.

"Fire at will!"

They opened fire, and one by one, the Jem'Hadar vessels were destroyed. There was no time to rejoice. They still had to contend with two more Jem'Hadar, but Kathryn thought they'd keep a safe distance, now that their back-up had been eliminated. Five against two Jem'Hadar...she was in a better position to negotiate now.

Tom had entered the bridge meanwhile, and Karan Tor rose from the conn to hand over to him again. The two pilots smiled; Tom indicated Tor remain at the conn, then turned to Kathryn.

"That was a mighty fine shuttle we destroyed there, Captain."

"All for a good cause. You'll be building a new one - "

"With new specifications. I'm already on it, Captain."

Kathryn shook his hand.

"Thank you, Tom."

"You're welcome. Captain, if it is possible, may I be on the away teams for Jarok?"

"Any reason, Tom?"

"I had a friend, Captain. I grew up with him. Six months ago, he was listed missing in action - "

"Freyne Detroit?" Karan Tor asked as he turned in his seat.

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"We were senior cadets who trained under Captain Chakotay. That manoeuvre we just did, Captain Chakotay devised it."

"Freyne wrote me about the Epileng Cross Maneuver."

"Well, Tom. If he's there, he is hopefully still alive."

"He has no family, Captain. My parents...sort of adopted him when we were kids and he lived with his grandparents. They died just before he entered the Academy..."

Kathryn nodded.

"Captain, we'll be in orbit around Jarok in one hour..." Magnus Rollins said.

"Noted. I'll be in my ready room. Eamon, you have the bridge."

"Aye, Captain."

*****  

Kathryn almost collapsed in her chair as she sat down in her ready room. Only now did reaction set in. She had no wish to kill, but they were at war, and her vessel was engaged. If threatened, she'd do what she could to protect her crew, even if men like Gul Evek had to die. They gave no quarter and would receive none. Now, Gul Evek was dead, and they had destroyed three Jem'Hadar battle cruisers.

Head in her hands, she sat for several minutes and waited for the shivering to subside. At last, when she felt she could get up from her chair and walk without feeling that her legs would buckle, she rose and went to sit down on her couch. Seated in such a way that she could see the dark expanse, she closed her eyes again, feeling a sting of tears as she thought of the prisoners they still had to rescue.

She had no idea at all of the nature of their injuries and illnesses, and although the EMH had warned her that they may have been infected with an alien virus to cause slow deaths, even that she could only imagine.

She missed Chakotay. Only now, when the pressure of fighting and command had been relieved a little, could she allow her thoughts to dwell on the man who had given her so much of himself, who had sacrificed so much and who suffered like no man could ever be asked to endure. Was he waiting for her the same way Winonah had waited, until a familiar face arrived?

It was difficult to cry. She had no more tears left, and only a deep echo resounded. Chakotay, a man, a husband, Maquis, Federation officer, would have wanted her to be strong, and strong she was, defending him and his principles with a passion she thought she'd never have, until she met a man who was willing to lay down his life for another and for a cause he passionately believed in. What greater honour could be bestowed on such a man, who asked for nothing but that he be respected for what he stood for, and what he fought for and what he loved with his very breath?

They had made a child together, and God help her, Hannah was going to grow up with her Daddy around, who would dote on her and who would, through his own example, imbue their daughter with the finest qualities of man and officer he was. Now they had Winonah too, just like the rest of her family and the rest of Starfleet Command and indeed, the rest of the Federation, her little girls were waiting for the homecoming of one hundred men, commanded through the most extreme adversity by Captain Chakotay, her husband.

Not for glory, not for honour, but for the simple dictum of the very ideals of the Federation, that life at all costs be preserved, would Chakotay receive his rewards.

What was war? An exercise of planetary expansion and extension of empires? The expression of ideological differences? Didn't they know that empires, when built on the innocent lives of men, women and children, were just as fragile and just as vulnerable to breaking and collapse as the finest thread that held them together? Then, what could one ask? Why did it have to happen in the first place? When all about was lying waste, decimated to the point that nothing could spring from its soils anymore, was that what the war was about?

Kathryn Janeway gave a deep sigh. In a very short while, the small armada would be entering the orbit of Jarok. In the cargo bays, and in the medical bays, all ships were preparing for their precious charges.

Walking back to her desk and unable to relax completely, Kathryn picked up the photograph of Chakotay.

"I made Winonah our daughter, Chakotay, just like you asked. Now all you have to do is watch her grow up..."

*******  

Kathryn stood on the bridge of Voyager looking at the planet that filled the viewscreen. Jarok, D-Class planet of the Falrak Dwarf Star System, almost hidden in the Demilitarised Zone. She had to thank the informant who had braved life and limb to give Ken Dalby this information. Not only had he given the co-ordinates, but also furnished information about the number of survivors to be taken to Jarok.

"Captain, there are one hundred lifesigns on the surface," Magnus Rollins said formally. "All are grouped together, it would appear, in the same locality. Southern Hemisphere."

She turned away from the screen and took a few brisk steps towards the upper level of the bridge.

"All away teams, report to the transporter rooms."

She nodded to Tom Paris who rose from his seat. Karan Tor took over the conn while they headed for the turbolift doors. Magnus Rollins, relieved by Ayala, also joined them. In the turbolift Kathryn hit her commbadge.

"Janeway to sickbay."

"Go ahead, Captain," the EMH responded.

"You have stasis chambers ready, Doctor?"

"Two in sickbay and two in cargo bay 1, Captain."

"Good. Janeway out."

"Captain..."

Kathryn looked at Tom whose eyes showed for once deep concern. The old smirk was gone and he looked serious.

"Yes?"

"We'll get them all out safely."

"We will," Magnus Rollins replied succinctly.

"I hope so," she said softly. "I hope so..."

She reminded herself firmly that she couldn't lose control, that she had to present a strong front to her officers and not let them see how worried she really was. She feared for Chakotay's life. The time they had taken to travel to Jarok... They had been informed that Jarok was the place where the prisoners were brought, but how long had they been there? Two days? More than that? These questions had plagued her the last two weeks, two weeks in which she agonised over the fate of her husband, not knowing how he looked, or what physical condition he was in. Chakotay was a strong man, but his strength might have been tested beyond his endurance, day after day as a prisoner of the Cardassians.

By the time they exited the turbolift, Kathryn had regained her composure.

They were met in the transporter room by the medical staff and other crew appointed by Sergei to assist. They needed virtually all hands, Kathryn realised, as she greeted Sergei. They were solemn, each one caught up in his own thoughts. Their team would be the first to beam down.

Kathryn nodded to the transporter chief.

******

A brief displacement; and a second later Kathryn and the other four drew in their breath sharply as the air hit their lungs. The sun beat down on them, and the air shimmered as they looked in the distance. They had beamed down about a hundred metres from where she could see the group of men were located.

Kathryn moved, her heart beating faster and faster. She hurried, not running, but it felt as if her feet carried her like a breathless doe to the first tree, where she saw a man lying a little away from the main group. She didn't heed Sergei's concerned calls, or the others who followed her example and hurried along with her. Something buzzed in her head for a few agonising seconds as her consciousness pushed away everything around her leaving a vacuum in which she existed only with one man, a man who was on the brink of death, a man who was the very breath of her existence.

_And if it breaks?_

_Why, we'll just fix it so it will never break again..._

Did her movements slow down after that? Afterwards, she could never quite decide, she imagined that if she saw herself in an imager moving towards the man lying on his back with one hand raised as if he were reaching for her, it would be excruciatingly slowly, a motion suspended, then continuing again slowly, until her destination was reached.  

He lay on his back. One hand rested on his chest, the fingers loose, over the locket she had given him a thousand years ago, it seemed to her. The other hand lay outstretched. Chakotay looked desperately ill; his lips were dry, his skin pallid, and even though he wore tattered loose fitting trousers, she could see how misshapen his legs were. His eyes were closed and he was barely breathing. Kathryn knelt down beside him and in wonder she saw him raise his hand, saw his tired eyes open and his lips start to move.

"I waited...for you...to come, my Kathryn..."

Chakotay gave a sigh that rose from deep inside him as he said the words. Then his eyes closed even as Kathryn's hand reached for his.

"Chakotay...Chakotay?"

"He's slipped into a coma, Captain," came Sergei's voice. Kathryn looked up at the doctor and nodded, feeling relief at the same time that Chakotay didn't stop breathing. She held his hand in hers, while the other hand covered his on his chest.

"He has a very high fever, Sergei."

"Much higher than acceptable levels, Kathryn," Sergei said, while he scanned Chakotay. For a few seconds he worked without saying anything. "We must deal with the fever first. He is dying."

"Sergei?"

Sergei didn't respond to her as Kathryn cradled Chakotay's head on her lap. Instead, he hit his commbadge.

"Karkoff to sick bay."

"Voyager here. What can I do for you, Doctor?" the EMH asked.

"Prepare to put our first patient in a stasis chamber, Doctor."

"I'm ready."

"Sergei?" Kathryn asked again, as Chakotay was engulfed in the transporter beam.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn. Chakotay has so many injuries, he should have been dead months ago. I can't believe he's still alive. Some of the injuries date back about five months. They never bothered to reset all his broken bones."

Kathryn turned ice-cold at Sergei's words, as he rose and walked quickly to the rest of the first group.

"Are you telling me that they - they - "

"Deliberately broke every bone in both legs, Captain. Fragments, worse than it was the first time his leg was like this. But that is the least of Chakotay's problems. He's been infected with a virus. He's dying, Captain. We have to keep him in stasis until we get to Federation space, and just work at bringing down his temperature."

Kathryn nodded, still too stunned, not daring to burst into tears as Chakotay was beamed to Voyager.

Bringing her churning emotions under control, she and Sergei reached the others. Most were awake, but groaning or lying quietly. Tom was speaking to a prisoner; Kathryn presumed it was Freyne Detroit.

"Not to worry, friend. You'll be right as rain and in no time you can wheedle those chocolate chip cookies from my mother again."

"I'd like that," replied Freyne, wincing as he moved.

Tom looked at the shadow that Kathryn cast as she stood next to him.

"Captain, Freyne Detroit."

Kathryn didn't recoil as she looked at Tom's friend. Much of his face looked ravaged, as if Cardassian doctors cut away flesh and left him to rot away.

"Is - is it over, Captain?" Freyne asked, his voice slurring.

"Yes, it is. We're taking you home...home..."

"Thank you..."

***********  

Kathryn looked at Voyager's EMH and Sergei Karkoff in turn, before, her eyes stole to the stasis chamber in which Chakotay lay.

"We're working to bring down his temperature first before resuming treatment, Captain," Sergei said.

"And the other three are ready to be awakened. They were the most susceptible to the B7-27 virus, although their temperatures didn't cause the paralysis that it has in Captain Chakotay."

Kathryn nodded, too mute still to offer any comment.

"Prognosis?" she asked in a thin voice.

The EMH cleared his throat.

"There is every chance that Captain Chakotay will recover fully from the virus. It's the injuries to his legs that your Doctor Karkoff here tells me will take some time." The EMH gave a little snort.

"It's the same drill as four years ago, Kathryn, unfortunately."

Kathryn gave a tired smile. Chakotay hadn't been the most exemplary of patients when his leg had taken so long to heal after his fall down a mine shaft on Moldor IV. He had given everyone grief at the time. They were just getting to know one another and Chakotay had been a real bear, testing her patience, then apologising profusely afterwards.

"All the patients except Captain Chakotay and Freyne Detroit have recovered. They've been allocated cabins."

Kathryn looked at the biobed where Freyne lay. He was sleeping, but earlier, when he was awake, he had called her

"Captain, your - your husband...Chakotay..."

"Yes, what is it, Freyne?" she asked softly.

"He kept us all alive, Captain. Swore he'd kill me if I didn't live..."

"That sounds like something Chakotay would have said, Freyne."

"He looked after me even when he - " Freyne paused, casting his eyes to the stasis chamber. "He suffered worse than any of us."

Kathryn had closed her eyes on hearing Freyne's words. The list of Chakotay's injuries...No man should have lived.

"He'll make it, Lieutenant."

Freyne had breathed a sigh of relief, then closed his eyes. Already, the EMH had worked on Freyne's face, regenerating skin that had been cut away. He was breathing normally, his skin tone now healthy. A lone tear escaped and rolled down his cheek,

"Thank you, Captain..."

Kathryn turned her attention again to the EMH and Sergei.

"It seems that they organised themselves into smaller groups, each one with a leader, Kathryn. Just the kind of thing Chakotay would have done."

"I understand. He and Captain Gredor were the highest ranking officers of the group." Kathryn frowned. "I have a book that belongs to an Ensign Waldorff..."

"Yes. Waldorff is on the Volga."

"I'll see that the Rubáiyát is returned to its owner. Chakotay... The Rubáiyát was his favourite book," Kathryn replied, her eyes drawn to the stasis chamber as she said the words. Chakotay's face, drawn and pale, looked strangely peaceful. But, he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"I know. Captain..."

"Yes?"

I’ll be going offline for the next forty-eight hours, as your intrepid engineer, B’Elanna Torres, rigged me to do. Doctor Karkoff here will oversee your husband's treatment."

"Doctor, thank you. We really needed all extra personnel."

"Glad I could help," the EMH replied. The next moment he was gone.

Kathryn walked to the stasis chamber, her hand resting on the glass pane through which she could see Chakotay. His rising temperature had been arrested just in time, and over the next few hours they were gradually reducing it to more acceptable levels. He would still have the fever when he came out of stasis; he'd only then be given the antiserum to the drugs everyone had been injected with on Cardassia Prime. Chakotay's hair had grown long; he had lost almost a third of his original body mass. Convalescence was going to be protracted. It had taken him a long time just to recover fully from his broken leg before Now, with both legs shattered... Kathryn shook her head. She wanted to weep every time she looked at his face. She wanted to touch him, to let him know or sense through the feel of her hand on his brow, or just caressing his hair away from his face, or resting her hand on his chest, that she was there with him, that all his tribulations were over. She could only imagine how unbearable the pain must have been, when they drove spikes through his bones  simply to test his tolerance for pain. She had no words anymore for what the Cardassians had done to him and all the other prisoners. Fifty two had died, one hundred managed to survive despite the utmost cruelty. Kathryn gave a sigh. She has not had any sleep for almost forty eight hours, but she wanted to stay with Chakotay; she didn't want to break the connection of her hand just resting on the clear panel of the stasis chamber.

She didn't want to leave him. There were so many assurances she wanted to give him...so many... Kathryn was hardly aware that a hand rested on her shoulder.

"Kathryn, you should rest - " When Kathryn sounded a protest, Sergei gently moved with her towards the sickbay doors. "You need all your strength. Once you've had some sleep, I'll call you the moment we're ready to wake him up..."

Kathryn looked up into Sergei's concerned eyes.

"Not a moment later, Sergei," she said, trying to smile. "Not a moment..."

**  

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Kathryn smiled when both children competed to touch the vidscreen, Hannah pushing Winonah out of the way, and a second later Winonah holding Hannah so that both could look at her.

"When are you coming home, Mommy?" Winonah asked, giving Kathryn one of her rare smiles.

"One more week, sweetie."

"And is Daddy coming home too?" she asked.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Hannah clucked.

"Mom! Are these two ever going to give me a chance to talk?" she asked Gretchen Janeway.

Kathryn heard Gretchen's voice, although she couldn't see her mother. The girls filled the screen, just wanting to leap at her.

"Be prepared, Kathryn. Adam and I have our hands full with these two. Hannah is running on pure energy..."

"Is Daddy coming, Mommy?"

Kathryn sighed, touched the screen before she replied, "Yes, honey. I'm bringing Daddy home. He's very, very sick, okay?"

"Can Daddy talk?"

Kathryn gave a wan smile. Winonah was comparing Chakotay's trauma with her own. She had been mute for a whole year, and probably thought Chakotay would be too.

"Yes, he can, Winonah. But he's still sleeping, so he can't talk right now, you understand?"

Winonah nodded her head sombrely.

"I made a drawing for him, Mommy."

"That's very sweet of you, honey. When we come home, you can show it to him, okay?"

"Oh, yes!"

Then Gretchen's face appeared and a pair of hands relieved her of Hannah who had been sitting on her lap. Kathryn only saw Adam Ponsonby's face briefly before he disappeared with the children. Gretchen looked at her for a few moments, a silent assessment in which her face became tinged with concern.

"Out with it, Kathryn."

"Chakotay is in very bad shape, Mom. Nothing that can't be corrected, eventually. But healing will be a long process - "

"Tortured, I guess?"

Kathryn nodded. She had read the PADD with Chakotay's reports. It was a harrowing ordeal, months in which they never let him sleep, rest, eat properly; months in which they prodded his body, drove spikes through him when he was still fully conscious. How much pain did he endure? Chakotay was still in stasis; Sergei thought to keep him there for a short while longer. It had been almost a week, and anytime now, Chakotay would be transferred to the biobed, where they could finally inject him with antiserum and start working on repairing his broken bones.

"Kathryn..." Gretchen's voice broke into her reverie.

"I have him back, right?" Kathryn whispered in a hoarse voice.

"He'll be among family. We're all waiting for our heroes to come home, Kathryn. Chakotay will bask in the surroundings of home, and getting to know his little girls."

This time a tear rolled hotly down Kathryn's cheek.

"He looks so ill, Mom. So ill..."

"He's a fighter. Just you wait and see. Very soon he's going to be the grumpiest patient on Earth."

Kathryn smiled through the sheen of tears.

"Goodbye, Mom."

"Take good care of the Federation's son, Kathryn..."

When communication closed, Kathryn stared for a long, long time at the Federation insignia.

Son of the Federation. They were giving him now what they had denied him for so long. It was  a gesture that fleetingly filled her with bitterness. She thought of the time his father made representation to the Federation, a plea backed by the son who took up the cause of Dorvan V and that of so many homeworlds, denied the right for defence by the same Federation that wanted to decorate men and women who died fighting a cause. A Federation who wanted to honour and acknowledge now, when it was a little late, the work done by men and women like Chakotay, who believed in what they were doing. Chakotay lay in Voyager's sickbay, oblivious of the Federation and its ideals, fighting for his life, fighting to stay alive for his family.

Sighing, she rose from her seat at her desk. She had opted to take her mother's communication in her quarters where could have the privacy of her cabin. The children looked excited; Winonah smiled more, her eyes were alive and expectant. They were well cared for by her mother and stepfather; Phoebe and Rodea had taken them to Paris to stay for a few days. Winonah was adapting and fitting in with the family, becoming close to Phoebe who was impressed with Winonah's ability to sketch

Kathryn sat down in Chakotay's easy chair and leaned back against the headrest. It was late evening, and she had spent most of the afternoon in sickbay, touching the stasis chamber and wondering when he'd open his eyes. The quiet of her quarters enfolded her. She thought of the times she had sat with him when this very easy chair had been on the Crimond, and they shared so many intimate moments when they talked of their future, of the children they'd have one day.

They were still a week away from Earth; hopefully, Chakotay would have made some recovery by then.

All the other former prisoners on the other vessels had recovered from their ordeals, and only a few would have to convalesce when they arrived home. The mission had been successful. The success of it gave her little pleasure when she saw the condition the prisoners were in. It was a sick testimony to the cowardice of the Cardassians, who fled the scene when they knew they were losing the war and fighting the final battles. She had been very bitter when she informed Admirals Paris, Ponsonby and Lewis that the Vetar under Gul Evek's command had been destroyed. Evek was gone, and so was the last vestige of everything that had driven a wedge between husband and wife, a wedge that had been calculated with extreme malice to the last detail. No more would she and Chakotay be troubled by the likes of Gul Evek. No more would she see the gloating looks, the derision with which Evek crowed his victory over a helpless man.

Kathryn gave a sob, then quickly rose from the chair. It was late and duty started again for her at 0700. Although Eamon Daley had cheerfully indicated he'd command Voyager until they got home so that she could sit with her sick husband, she knew that her presence on the bridge was important. Crew like the former Maquis, others like Freyne Detroit, who was able to walk around unaided, were waiting for news of Chakotay.

Lying down in bed, her hand stole to the pillow beside her. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

_Very soon, Chakotay...I will lie in your arms again..._

_*******_

Kathryn was on the bridge when Sergei Karkoff hailed her. She had already replied by the time she reached the turbolift doors. Heart racing, she made her way to the sickbay, cursing inwardly that it took so long to get there.

For the last twenty four hours, she had been waiting anxiously for Sergei's hail and had been unable to sleep much. Some periods of deep depression followed by a high elation that Chakotay was at last safe on her vessel, had marked the last few days since he had been brought on board. Only this afternoon, she had again visited sickbay in the hope that his condition might have improved to the point that he could recognise her. Sergei had warned that there might be a certain amount of brain damage as a result of the high fever he’d endured for two days before they were rescued. She had been right in her assumption that Ken Dalby's contact had known the exact day that the prisoners would be taken from Cardassia Prime, and that Voyager's appearance in the Falrak Star System would almost coincide with the arrival of the prisoners there. Again, she had given it a lot of thought, that possibly a Cardassian doctor had been prepared to release this information to someone whom he could trust to get intelligence to Starfleet Command. Chakotay and the others had been on Jarok no more than a day and a half.

Kathryn shook her head as she exited onto the deck of the sickbay.

This afternoon, Chakotay's colour seemed to have improved, though it couldn't be possible, since all functions of his body had been halted while Sergei and the EMH worked at bringing down his fever. He might still be in a coma when she arrived, but it was better than nothing. It was better than her frustration and despair whether she would ever see him alive again. When he had been taken prisoner on the Vetar, she’d had a blind conviction knowing Cardassian manner of atrocities, that she would never see her husband alive again.

Many times in the last six months, she had been wracked by intense guilt that she had let him down, that she’d failed him when he needed her most. Perhaps, in retrospect, her feelings had been compounded by the fact that once before, she had also been a helpless witness to her father and Justin Tighe dying before her very eyes. It had taken long, too long for human understanding in matters of grief and guilt to let go of those feelings that had plagued her for years. And so, six months ago, watching Chakotay dissolve in the transporter beam, she had again been wracked by guilt that she had been powerless to stop Gul Evek from capturing him. The only light in her dark tunnel in those days had been two things, two thin, golden veins that weaved through her consciousness and  even in her darkest hours kept her hope flaring high. Those things were his words, "Thoughts of you will keep me alive" and the very fact that he’d sacrificed his life and freedom to save more than two hundred crew that day. It didn't prevent her from plunging into the depths of despair from time to time, but the thought that he was alive somewhere for her, time after time dragged her towards the light that beckoned at the end of the tunnel.

Now, she could face her husband and tell him that he was safe, that Winonah was safe and that they were waiting at home for him.

She could tell him that she never gave up hoping that she'd find him again.

The doors to sickbay opened and Kathryn, her heart racing, was surprised to find Chakotay already out of the stasis chamber and lying on the main biobed with Sergei and Iliana Madred in attendance.

"Sergei?"

"We've managed to bring down his fever, Captain," Sergei responded matter-of-factly. "The EMH has already injected him with the antiserum. He's sleeping, I'm happy to say."

She felt like bursting into tears at Sergei's words and the Vulcan nurse stepped to one side to allow her to stand next to the biobed.

Chakotay's colour had improved dramatically and when she touched his cheek with the back of her hand, it didn't feel like it was burning the way it had when she touched him down on Jarok. Then he had just enough strength to say her name, and that he knew she'd come. Kathryn closed her eyes briefly, allowing the touch to suffuse her being, ripple through her body that remembered the feel of his skin beneath her fingers.

"Chakotay..." she whispered as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. The dome was up and Sergei was still monitoring Chakotay's condition.

"I had to break his legs again, Captain, and reset them. He was walking like a cripple for months, I guess, since the Cardassians never bothered to fix what they broke." Sergei's voice sounded bitter, and looking up at him, Kathryn saw how angry Sergei was. His face was reddened, the freckles darker than usual. Then he clenched his jaw, and continued without referring again to the Cardassians. Instead, when he spoke, he looked a trifle calmer. "Naturally, when he gets home, he's going to give all of us hell and demand that he walk without crutches..."

"I thought he might have to use those again," Kathryn said softly, her hand caressing Chakotay's cheek.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn," Sergei said, "but it might take a while for Chakotay to achieve full recovery."

"He'll have his family around him, Sergei. His family and all his friends who believed he'd be back with us and who helped find him." Her voice was warm. Chakotay would know what his friends had done for him.

Sergei turned redder, a little embarrassed at Kathryn's praise and gratitude. He nodded to the nurse and soon, she busied herself with another patient.

"I guess it would be futile to order bed rest for you, Captain?"

"It would be futile," Kathryn said, smiling sadly, but resolved to keep a vigil through the night.

Sergei returned her smile, then prepared to leave the sick bay,  Nurse Iliana remaining to keep an eye on the patient..

So Kathryn stayed and the hours passed. Chakotay slept peacefully and it brought tears to Kathryn's eyes. She read the PADD that was given him by Lieutenant Anderson. The torture methods had been such that his body was in a constant state of restlessness, that not even exhaustion was enough to let him rest. Most of the other rescued prisoners slept round the clock for the first twenty four hours after they were treated and given cabins on Voyager and the other Federation vessels. Chakotay, even though he had been in stasis, still needed to sleep and allow his body to achieve tranquillity again. He'd have much less pain than he’d had before which would be a major factor in his recovery.

"Oh, Chakotay... We're finally together," she whispered into the quiet of the sickbay. Her  fingers brushed lightly over his cheek. "I missed you so. We have Winonah, Chakotay. I made her our daughter and you know what she asked? She wanted to know if her last name was going to be Janeway. She said she’d never had a last name. So what do you think? Was it a good idea? I think it was. Winonah is happy being a Janeway, and very happy being Hannah's older sister..."

Chakotay remained impassive in sleep. Kathryn sighed, thinking that she was impatient for him to wake up, but she knew that it was better if he woke up naturally. Then again, he could sleep as much as he wanted to, couldn't he? Only thing was, she would have to keep the children from making too much noise when they got home for she knew they would want to be with him constantly.

"We'll live at Indiana for a while," she continued. "We were always so happy there. We'll sit under our tree where you carved our names one day. Remember when I said it was foolish to do it, we're not teenagers? You said our hearts were young, what the heck, we live only once... That's what you said."

This time Kathryn imagined she saw a movement. Was Chakotay waking up? She sat forward, one hand caressing his cheek and the other resting against his shoulder. Not for the first time she wondered what was going on inside his head.

Sighing, she put her head down, for she was tired. She'd only close her eyes for a short while. A short while... Maybe when she lifted her head again, Chakotay would be awake and he'd look at her with hungry eyes. His skin felt so cool to the touch now; it was a very good sign. There'd be no after effects of the virus the prisoners were infected with. A thick fog descended on her, engulfing her in darkness. Did she lift and drift down into the depth of that dark chasm?

Through the fog she heard her name called. At first it was soft, like a question, then it became firmer, as if the voice recognised her and was coaxing her to listen to it. Did it tell her to wake up? Her body was heavy with sleep, unwilling to disengage itself from the cobwebs that kept it captured. But the voice persisted, and slowly, her body complied. She felt stiff, and she lifted her head slowly through the drug-like sleep. Why was it suddenly light now?

"Wha-what time is it?" she asked, blinking, disoriented for a second.

"I wish I knew, Kathryn..."

Chakotay's voice.

Her eyes flew open; she was suddenly wide awake, her hand still strangely enough against his head and the other pressing into his shoulder. Chakotay's eyes were open, his head turned in her direction. His lips were parched, but his eyes were alert. He was looking at her, recognising her; he was even smiling a little.

Her eyes welled up, and unable to stop herself, her tears burned down her cheeks. Her hand flew to cover her mouth, but it was too late to prevent the sob that rose from deep inside.

"Don't cry, Kathryn..."

"Chakotay..." his name was wrested from her. "Oh, Chakotay..."

Then she leaned her head against him, her tears soaking into him. He couldn't touch her, but his face nuzzled her hair, her neck.

"Captain."  

It was Nurse Iliana Madred who stood next to her. When Kathryn sat up, loath to relinquish her touch on Chakotay, Iliana let the dome slide down into the sides of the biobed. Kathryn nodded her thanks and Iliana's lips merely pulled into what Kathryn thought was a smile. Chakotay's hands were now free and Kathryn felt his palm against her cheek.

"It's good to see you, Kathryn..."

Her hand covered his and her cheeks were tear stained.

"I missed you so much," she whispered. "So much."

"Is - is it over?" he asked, grimacing as he tried to move his legs.

"We're going home..."

"Home... I dreamed of home, often."

"Just get better, will you? Just get better."

"Hannah?" Chakotay's eyes were on hers, and she thought they were hungry eyes, eager to hear any news from home.

Kathryn smiled through her tears; another sob followed.

"Hannah is talking and saying 'Daddy'. Oh, Chakotay, we - we found Winonah..."

Chakotay tried to lift himself from the bed, then winced and closed his eyes, slumping against the headrest. Kathryn, concerned that he was in pain, rose from the chair, but his grip on her wrist was surprisingly strong. Beads of perspiration had formed on his brow and when she seated herself again, Chakotay let go of her, but only to grasp her hand in his. His breathing was laboured, coming in low gasps.

"Tell me," he said with eyes closed.

"She was safe in the care of a Cardassian woman called Penytt Sarra on a planet called Kodari."

Chakotay's eyes opened

"Cardassian..."

"You were right..."

"There were dissidents."

"Yes."

Chakotay opened his eyes, the fever in them a manifestation of his hunger for news and assurances.

"You made Winonah ours?"

"She had only two requests," Kathryn said with a smile. "Her Uncle Chakotay must come home, and her last name must be Janeway. She - she calls me 'Mommy'..."

Chakotay nodded and gave a deep sigh; he lay quiet for several minutes while Kathryn tenderly caressed his hand, sometimes bending over to kiss his cheek.

"Gul Evek..."

Eventually, he was going to ask. She had always imagined that when Chakotay returned to her, returned home, that Evek would be an issue Chakotay would raise when he was well on the road to recovery. It was an underestimation of the first order, she thought ruefully. It had probably been on Chakotay's mind all the time, a festering sore that had to be cleaned right away.

"He was killed in a standoff with our fleet."

"You killed him?"

"Voyager destroyed the Vetar," Kathryn said quietly. A tear rolled down Chakotay's cheek. Kathryn felt like crying with him. Their old foe was beaten at last, his ship destroyed.

"Then I must tell you, Kathryn, on his ship, they used me..."

The words came heavily from him, a difficult admission, even more difficult to tell her. She saw Chakotay's throat work, saw him swallow, more tears rolling down his cheek. She had always suspected that was part of the torture regime, always knew that in the month the Vetar spent travelling to Cardassia from the Badlands, that Chakotay would be subjected to that manner of abuse.

"You left Voyager unarmed, Chakotay," she whispered. "You couldn't defend yourself. Whatever happened was out of your control - "

"I tried..."

"You're free, Chakotay. Free."

"Yes...yes, I am... Let's go home..."

Chakotay was asleep before she could reply. Kathryn felt a strange shiver running down her spine. Something in the way Chakotay spoke, his tone when he mentioned Evek, filled her with disquiet.

But they were going home, she thought. Chakotay was going to recover; his soul would heal and they would be a family again.

A family.

************  

**END CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT**

 


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE 

**Indiana - June 2372**

It was a warm day, one of those summer days that made many venture to the outdoors, to sit under trees, spend a day at the beach, or just browse in the Academy gardens and watch Boothby trim his rose bushes with great diligence. 

Once - was it only three months ago? - Kathryn thought that Indiana at any time looked beautiful; on that day, she had watched Hannah and Winonah play in their sand pit just outside the house, with an over energetic Ceara digging away to her heart's content. Then, she had not known that within days she would be called to go out in a second attempt to rescue Chakotay. Now, Chakotay was with them, enfolded in the warm cocoon that was family. Now, with summer upon them, the days were flying by and the warmth came and settled in them, becoming a balm for their battered spirits. 

Kathryn peered through the window of the lounge. Not far from the house stood their large oak tree, the same oak where Chakotay had carved their names. He was sitting on a bench, an afghan rug thrown loosely over his legs. Around him the children were playing, with Ceara barking and running after them. Chakotay followed their movements, and she could see him smile at Hannah's antics, or the dog's, or Winonah running to stop Hannah from pulling Ceara's long ears. Hannah was now eighteen months old, already able to speak in clear, albeit two word sentences. Winonah had grown a few centimetres in the last six months and she was open, almost as exuberant as Hannah, although there had been nights when she had a nightmare, and Chakotay had counselled her, guiding her through her trauma. 

Chakotay's hands rested loosely on his lap, and the book - his own copy of Omar Khayyám's _Rubáiyát_ \- lay on the ground. It must have slid off his lap and he had made no effort to pick it up; he was too interested in the children's cavorting. Earlier she had gone to quieten them a bit, but Chakotay merely lifted his hand, indicating that they weren't a disturbance. 

A tender smile curved around her mouth. Perched against the tree was his walking stick. It was the same one he used the first time she’d met him. Although he had pulled a few funny faces at having to use it again, he was sensible enough to know it would aid him in his recovery. In the first weeks he had used crutches, something he knew he had to do, but which he hated. She had always managed to keep the children out of his way when he was in extreme pain. Once, at their apartment, Chakotay had been sitting in his chair in the lounge and the children had been extra lively, running around him, Hannah screaming at the top of her voice. Then he had given a loud bark of annoyance, followed by a curse. Winonah had stopped in her tracks, her eyes filling so suddenly with tears that Hannah, seeing her sister crying, burst into tears also. Chakotay had given her a resigned look, beckoned to both children to sit on his lap and apologised to them. She had quietly fetched the medkit and given Chakotay a painkiller while he was still soothing the children. 

Now, finally, Chakotay could walk unaided most of the time, only using the walking stick when he experienced undue stress, although he disliked depending on it just as much as he had years earlier. They had been home three months now, after a difficult beginning. 

Too difficult, she thought as she remembered the first few weeks... 

She had been almost paranoid about protecting Chakotay from the media who wanted to get a glimpse of a war hero, a "son of the Federation" as they hailed him. He had been transferred to Starfleet Medical, under the care of Tom's mother as well as Sergei, who had overseen his care on the journey home. The admirals had been generous. She was to remain on compassionate leave and assist Chakotay in his convalescence until she wished to return to active duty. Eamon Daley would command Voyager in her absence.

Chakotay's recovery had been nothing short of miraculous, and Kathryn was convinced that it was because he was home with family and with everyone close. who cared about him. Their presence, their words of encouragement had given Chakotay the added impetus to speed his own healing. He expressed his gratitude to her mother, Phoebe and Adam, and thanked them for taking care of his wife and daughter. 

The first time Chakotay opened his eyes in the ward at Starfleet Medical and saw Elizabeth Paris, he had reached for the doctor's hand in a spontaneous gesture of welcome, even though he was still so critically ill. Then he wanted to see Hannah and Winonah immediately, the entreaty and agitation in his eyes almost unbearable to witness.

"You're not out of the woods yet, Chakotay. It's too soon - " 

"Kathryn...I haven't seen Hannah in almost a year...and Winonah... Please..." 

Kathryn had known in those moments when Chakotay closed his eyes, the beads of perspiration forming on his brow, the way his breathing became ragged, that he would only rest once he had seen the children. 

It had been an effort to calm Hannah down when she and Gretchen arrived at the hospital. The baby couldn't stop wriggling or stand still when she insisted she toddle next to Winonah, holding her sister's hand. She had been told that she was going to see her Daddy, and after that she had been unmanageable. Kathryn had always marvelled at the way Hannah sensed her father, even though she had seen him only twice in real life. The moments after she was born hardly counted, but when she was five months old, she had recognised her father who had been given the opportunity to visit on Kathryn's birthday. Kathryn had given a sigh. Hannah kept calling "Daddy, Daddy" to any person she spotted on her way to the hospital, and Kathryn thought the child was telling everyone she was going to visit her daddy in hospital. 

Winonah had been far more demure in her preparation to visit her Uncle Chakotay. Only the previous night, she had asked if she could call Uncle Chakotay "Daddy" like Hannah was doing all the time. Kathryn had been touched, scooping Winonah to her and assuring her that her Uncle Chakotay wouldn't mind being her daddy. Her own father who died would not have minded. 

Winonah, who had been uncertain before then, had given Kathryn her brightest smile, then hugged her fiercely, an action witnessed by Hannah, who promptly demanded the same thing. 

Gretchen had waited outside with Winonah while Kathryn entered the private ward, carrying Hannah. 

Kathryn's heart had thumped wildly as she walked in. Chakotay lay awake, cushions piled under his head so that he was raised on the bed. He stared for so long when Kathryn stood before the bed, that she wondered for a moment what was going on in his head. He blinked, trying to hold back his tears. 

"Hannah..." 

"Daddy! Daddy!" Hannah crowed, almost pitching right out of Kathryn's arms as she leaned towards her father. 

This time Chakotay's eyes welled with tears. Kathryn seated herself on the side of the bed and as he stretched out his arms to his daughter. He held the child tightly to him, stroking her hair, kissing her cheeks. When Hannah moved away from him a little, she surprised Chakotay when she cupped his cheeks in her own pudgy little hands and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. 

"She's grown, Kathryn..." Chakotay said, his voice filled with wonder. 

"I...beeg, Daddy," Hannah proclaimed proudly, spreading her arms wide just to indicate how much she had grown. Then she hugged her Daddy to her again, kissed him on his chin while she wriggled so much that he had trouble just holding her steady. 

"You're like Mommy, sweetie. She couldn't sit still much, either." 

"Daddy! Love Daddy," Hannah affirmed her affection and allegiance again and the next moment, she laid her head against Chakotay's chest, and closed her eyes, her thumb going uncharacteristically into her mouth. It was quiet for a few seconds in which Hannah savoured her father's smell, just being close to him. "Love Daddy," she murmured before she started sobbing. Her reaction amazed both Kathryn and Chakotay and they realised how much being away from his daughter had affected the little girl. Chakotay murmured soft words to her, and before long, Hannah was quiet again. 

"She's beautiful, Kathryn..." 

"She's you..." 

"Thank you for keeping my memory alive for her." 

"I promised she'd never forget you." 

"Her hair has grown long..." Chakotay said reflectively. 

"She won't even let me trim the ends, you know. It's because Winonah's hair is so long..." 

"Winonah..." 

"She's waiting, Chakotay..." 

Kathryn moved to take Hannah and the child fought her momentarily until Kathryn tugged her away from Chakotay's arms. 

"We see Daddy tomorrow, okay, Hannah? We'll come visit again..." she soothed the irate child, who didn’t want to leave her father and who kept pitching forward just to touch him. Kathryn held her so that Chakotay could kiss her and when Hannah had planted wet kisses against his chin, Kathryn finally managed to walk to the door, with Hannah still leaning so that she could get a last glimpse of her father. 

Outside the door, Gretchen was quick to take Hannah from Kathryn, and Winonah edged closer to her. 

"Come, Uncle Chakotay is ready to see you," Kathryn said softly as she noted Winonah's reticence. 

Winonah stood near the door, looking with large eyes at Chakotay. He looked much better than he had in the days immediately following his rescue, but to Winonah he must have appeared still too ill, sitting up in bed, his face turned to her. Chakotay held out his hand. 

"Come here, Wenonah..." Chakotay said softly, giving her name a different inflection. 

Winonah closed the gap slowly and when she stood in front of the bed, Chakotay stared at her for so long that Kathryn thought he had forgotten she was there. He glanced at Kathryn finally, and his eyes looked distraught. Kathryn knew he was remembering the day they had gone to Dorvan V, the day the crew of the Ormskirk searched all the villages for bodies and prepared them for burial. Kathryn knew Chakotay remembered carrying Winonah's mother outside and telling Sergei it was his sister. She knew he remembered placing Winonah's mother and father and her uncles, her grandparents and her cousin Tomaso on the funereal pyre and himself setting it alight and committing his family to the sky spirits. She knew Chakotay remembered the last time he had seen Winonah, sitting on Kathryn's lap and saying she wanted to visit Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Chakotay on Earth. His eyes were riveted to the child's innocent face, her wide, shy eyes, the long raven hair. 

Winonah looked up at Kathryn and Kathryn sensed her request. She lifted Winonah onto the bed, and Chakotay pulled the child gently in his embrace. Winonah, no longer shy of the sick man on the high bed, stretched out next to him, throwing her arm across his chest while he held her close to him. The child was quiet, just idly rubbing Chakotay's chest while he caressed her cheek, her hair, sometimes dropping a kiss on her head. Then he rested his lips long on the top of her head and closed his eyes. Kathryn saw the frown forming and knew that in a second, tears would squeeze through closed eyelids. 

The tears came, soaking into Winonah's hair; Chakotay's body shook lightly and Kathryn wondered if he was running a fever again. His face and neck skin appeared damp, sweaty, and hot. Winonah's hand crept to Chakotay's cheek where she felt the tears that coursed down; she looked at her wet fingers in fascination, then lifted her face to him. 

Still, she didn't speak. It was as if the child were mute again and only relying on touch, sight and smell. She nuzzled her face against his chest and stayed that way for several seconds. Kathryn waited patiently. Chakotay was Winonah’s only living blood relative and the bond was very, very strong. Winonah was only just beginning to establish that bond with her, with Hannah, with Grandma Gretchen and Grandpa Adam and Aunt Phoebe. They were now an extended family surrounding their new daughter with love and a sense of belonging. Kathryn knew that Winonah's trauma would remain with her, but now that they were all together, it would be easier for the child to deal with it. She had her Uncle Chakotay, her Aunt Kathryn whom she had only recently started calling 'Mommy', and her new grandparents to support her and guide her through her darker periods. 

Chakotay opened his eyes at last. 

"Winonah..." 

"Yes, Uncle?" came the child's words softly and Chakotay's eyes lit up at the melodious sound of Winonah's voice. 

"I always knew we would find you..." 

"Mommy found me." 

"Mommy?" Chakotay looked at Kathryn, his eyes suddenly alive. 

"Yes. I call her Mommy now. Mama and Papa...they are with the sky spirits..." 

"They know you are being looked after, my little girl..." 

Winonah sat up to look at Chakotay. 

"I know, Daddy..." 

"Daddy?" 

"Yes." There was a breathlessness about Winonah when next she spoke. "I am Hannah's sister now..." she announced proudly. 

"Ah, so I'm your Daddy now." 

"And my surname is Janeway and I'm 'ficially adopted." 

"I told Mommy to do that for us while I was still gone." 

"Yes, and now I'm going to school and one day - one day I'm going to the Academy and become a Science Officer." 

"Honey...you're jumping the gun there a bit," Chakotay said, his eyes soft and loving as he stroked Winonah's hair. 

"It's only ten years from now, Daddy." 

"Why did I even say it." 

"Come, Winonah. Daddy is getting tired now," Kathryn said as she lifted Winonah off the bed. Chakotay was flagging again, like the waves that washed him out onto the sand and he preferred just to lie there and wait for the waves to lift him again. He gave a sigh of relief once Winonah's weight was taken off him. 

The moment they were alone together, Chakotay's hand reached for her. He looked tired, sleepy, but he battled to keep his eyes open. 

"It's good to be home, Kathryn..." 

"It's good to have you with us again," she said, her voice thick. 

"They look alike. I didn't realise the resemblance was that strong."

"Most people think they're sisters anyway." 

"I'm glad. Something of my homeworld has been saved. Thank you, Kathryn." 

The eyes that gazed at her were fevered again, his hand gripping hers tighter. It meant the world to him that Winonah was with them at last; it meant the world to him to see his family once more She hadn't wanted to think again of the last moments on Voyager, the fleeting fear in his eyes just before he transported to Evek's ship. They were together and more than anything, that was important. 

"You should rest..." 

"I want to go home.' 

"Doctor Paris and Sergei will decide, Chakotay. Your legs - " 

"I want to feel you in my arms again," he replied, ignoring her words. 

She leaned over to kiss him, a lingering touch on his lips that spread through her like fire. His hand cupped her head and for long, long moments, he held her to him. She could feel her tears coming again. When she broke contact at last, she straightened up, sighing. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said. 

"Yes...tomorrow..." 

***** 

In the days that followed, Chakotay had been like a bear with a sore head. Sergei had to reset his legs again, and the resultant and persistent pain had made him irritable, a frown always present when she came to visit. It was worse when she brought the children. 

Hannah was particularly over-energetic and had taken to jumping on him when placed on his lap. Kathryn had quickly learned to hold on to Hannah, who constantly demanded her Daddy's attention, and allow Winonah to talk to him. 

Most days he tried to curb his irritability, trying hard not to show that he was still in pain. Slowly Chakotay's condition improved. Elizabeth Paris had been in attendance the day he requested once again that he go home or he'd discharge himself. 

"You'll have to use these," Dr Paris said, pointing to the silver, elbow braced crutches. 

"I can get along without them," he said curtly, sitting up in bed. Kathryn had been standing next to him and when she touched his shoulder, he had been stiff and unbending. She had given a sigh. She wanted very much for Chakotay to be home with them, but she knew that a few extra days in hospital would do him the world of good. 

"Actually, Captain, you're going to need them for a while," Elizabeth parried. Chakotay had given her a long stare and finally acquiesced. 

"Fine. But only for a short while. I will get rid of them myself." 

"Sergei said - " 

"I don't care what Sergei said, Doctor Paris." 

"Chakotay!" Kathryn interjected, "you know it's for your - " 

Chakotay had gripped Kathryn's hand tightly, a film of perspiration forming on his upper lip. Kathryn could see the pain in his eyes, though Chakotay never cried out. 

"I know what's for my own good, Kathryn," he said in fevered haste. "When I lie in bed and hold you in my arms after almost a whole year, then I'll know that I'm home..." 

Elizabeth Paris had given a light snort. 

"Naturally, you'll take full responsibility for your discharge, Chakotay." 

Chakotay had given the doctor a look of remorse. He gave a deep sigh, pulling Kathryn closer to him; she could feel the heat of him, from more than just the fever of his now cleared virus. He was fevered by the passion of his words, the absolute truth of them and the belief that he really would accelerate his own recovery by coming home. She hadn't the heart to tell him how much noise Hannah and Winonah made in the early evening, after Winonah had completed her homework and they were getting ready for their dinner. 

"Yes, Doctor." 

"Not before tomorrow, then. I still have a few tests to run and your friend Sergei is devising a new little contraption to knit those together properly..." 

Chakotay had given another relieved sigh and hauled Kathryn back into his arms again. He was sitting up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. Earlier he had taken a few steps with the help of his crutches and she could see that it wouldn't be long before he'd graduate to his walking stick. She’d never recycled the old one he had when she met him the first time. 

"I love you, Kathryn..." he murmured into her hair. When she prepared to leave, he had given her a lingering kiss and she realised idly that she could understand why Chakotay was in a hurry to get home. She felt the delicious ripples of pleasure going through her, and she made her exit quickly before Elizabeth Paris witnessed some prolonged lovemaking right there in the ward. 

************** 

Kathryn had been busy with Hannah's midday feed when she heard a sound at the front door. Before she could respond, she heard the door open and seconds later, feet shuffled towards the kitchen. 

"Chakotay!" 

"Daddy!" crowed Hannah. Kathryn glanced quickly at Hannah to check she wasn't making a mess before grabbing hold of Chakotay who appeared to teeter. 

"I was coming to fetch you at the hospital - " she breathed, concerned that he looked so tired still. 

Chakotay gave a grimace. "I wanted to surprise you," he replied, lifting the crutch as if he wanted to throw it on some recycle heap. "And," he continued, "to get rid of these as soon as possible." 

"Daddy! Daddy!" 

"Hello, sweetie," Chakotay said as he ambled towards her and gave her a peck on the cheek. 

"'lo, Daddy. I'm eating!" 

"So I noticed," he said, smiling as he wiped her mouth. 

Chakotay kissed Hannah again, then looked at Kathryn. 

"I missed you too much," he whispered, and again, Kathryn could see the perspiration beads on his forehead, his upper lip, and how damp his skin felt. 

"You need to go to bed, Chakotay." 

"Any hope of you joining me there?" he suggested. 

"As soon as I've settled Hannah," she replied, "then I'll see what I can do." 

Chakotay gave her a dimpled smile that made her heart race, because the smile held so much promise. Then he kissed her, a lingering kiss that told her just how much he was going to wait for her. Hannah, seeing the embrace, demanded instantly that she be kissed too and Chakotay obliged. He turned to Kathryn. 

"I'll be waiting," he murmured, then walked slowly to their bedroom. 

Kathryn had hoped that Hannah would be asleep by the time she carried out her promise. Chakotay had showered and gone to bed without so much as a murmur. Still, she couldn't wait for Hannah to settle down. Once the child had seen her father, she demanded to play and be tickled by him, even talk to him in her fifteen month old childish chatter. Chakotay had just himself settled into bed, something that caused him to inhale deeply and sigh with relief that he was finally, after just over a year, in his own bed. Hannah had been fractious for a few minutes after that. Once she could get their daughter to calm down again, playing with her toys and promising that Hannah could play with Daddy once he woke up, she had finally stuck her thumb in her mouth, clutched B'Elanna's targ in her arms and fallen asleep. Hannah was still sleeping in the crib Chakotay had built for her. Since they had a third bedroom, Kathryn had felt it a good idea to have Winonah in her own bedroom. 

In the end, she never did get a chance to join Chakotay. Winonah had returned from school, in tears when she entered the apartment. 

"Hey, sweetie, what's the matter?" Kathryn asked. 

"I have two projects I must work on, Mommy," Winonah said tearfully. 

Kathryn had given a tender smile, and hugged Winonah. She remembered her own school days when she had panicked at times, running to her mother or her father when he happened to be home. She could do the work, she just needed their support. Winonah was no different, and coming from an entirely different system, still had to adapt to the rigours placed on even first graders to perform and achieve. 

"Well, let’s see. What is it you have to do?" Kathryn asked, as she walked with Winonah to the kitchen. 

There had followed about an hour of discussion in which Winonah managed to finish her meal, lay out her projects to Kathryn, get advice on how and where to start, before She could finally smile. The child was still so intense, Kathryn thought, but at least, with Hannah ever exuberant, it rubbed off on her and on many days, Kathryn could hear the two of them laughing. It was a good sound, hearing Winonah laugh. 

Chakotay had gotten up later, and they all had an early dinner. Winonah busied herself in her room and Hannah was content just sitting on her father's lap, showing him her toys, planting moist kisses on his brow. Chakotay revelled in their attention, and there were moments she saw how his eyes closed as he held Hannah close to him, or the way he touched Winonah's cheek. She knew he was always thinking of the time he had been away from them, but about that Chakotay never really spoke, except what he had told her on Voyager, about what happened to him on the Vetar. He remained silent about that and Kathryn didn't push him to open up to her. He would do it in his own time. She knew that some experiences were so painful, so shameful, that a person couldn’t talk about them at all.

Chakotay was a very strong man. Before he joined the Maquis, he had such a physical presence, an extremely muscular and exuding power. He was strong emotionally, and it was that inner strength blended with a sense of quiet about him, that had attracted her to him in the first place. She had fallen in love with him, sensing instinctively that she need never be afraid to love again, sensing in him a reciprocal understanding. The last time she had seen him, just before he transported to Evek's ship, was the last time she had seen a healthy looking Chakotay. He’d looked rugged, incredibly strong and very masculine in his Maquis dress. 

Now, the man, who hours earlier arrived home from the hospital, looked emaciated. She hadn't wanted to say anything about his physical toning, but Chakotay had lost so much weight, looked so thin that the urge to cry was almost too much for her at times. He really looked like someone dying, she thought, as she reflected on the day they found him on Jarok. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes were sunken and he looked weak, so diametrically different from a year ago. The old fire was still there, and she had an idea that Chakotay would regain his healthy tone and weight in the next few months. Sergei had been right. Recovery would come in instalments, and...she sighed. 

When she was finally ready for bed late that night, it had been with some anticipation. Chakotay had been sitting in his chair, watching her as she moved around the apartment, while the book he was reading lay open on his lap. Sometimes he dozed off for a few minutes and once, when he woke, she was sitting on the floor at his feet, idly rubbing his knee. They hadn't spoken, but it was enough for him, her presence and calmness soothing to him. 

"I passed on all the information of about Cardassian torture methods to Starfleet Command." 

"How is Freyne Detroit?" Chakotay asked, as if he hadn't heard her statement. 

Kathryn sighed. Perhaps another time when Chakotay was ready to speak. 

"He's recuperating. Doctor Paris is like his second mother - " 

"He is Tom's best friend." 

"I know. Admiral Paris and Elizabeth are fawning over him." 

Chakotay had given her a long, intense look. 

"It's all about family and belonging, isn't it, Kathryn?" he said eventually. 

She had nodded her head, too overcome at his words. 

"My - my crew, Kathryn?" he asked. It was the first time he’d asked directly about them. "What will happen to them?" 

"I told you the Maquis had been exonerated months ago, Chakotay. Several of the Liberty's crew are crew of Voyager now. I gave them field commissions and Starfleet has accepted my recommendations. Some have joined other institutions or serving on other vessels. B'Elanna - " 

"B'Elanna..." 

"She's starting at the Academy in two months' time." 

Chakotay nodded his satisfaction at hearing that. "She's a brilliant engineer." 

"I know! She broke Joe Carey's nose twice in the last months because he wasn't quick enough for her..." 

Chakotay rubbed the back of her hand. 

"I told you she's the best." 

Soon though, Chakotay flagged again and he rose heavily to his feet. The crutches lay on the floor and he left them. She offered her shoulder for him and he leaned on her while walking to the bedroom where he sagged gratefully on the bed. 

"Come here," he ordered as he shifted on the bed and patted the space next to him. 

She had taken off her robe and joined him on the bed, giving a sigh when he pulled her into his arms, feeling his mouth on her cheek, closing her eyes in which tears had started to well. His breath fanned her cheeks, and she nuzzled his face in his neck, inhaling him. 

She’d missed him. She’d missed him so much. Her movements had become frantic, the old terror that she would lose him taking hold of her again. But Chakotay was marvellous. Checking himself, he had soothed her, caressed her hair, her face, sometimes just kissing her lightly on the lips. She pressed closer. 

"Don't cry," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere this time..." 

It had been a balm to her, hearing his words of comfort when she thought he was the one needing solace. 

That first night they had fallen asleep in one another's arms, without ever allowing the thought that they could be making love to blight their almost spiritual togetherness. She had held him to her, and he had lain on his back so that her palm could rest on his broad chest and she could dreamily think of scores of other times when they had lain like that. It was a closeness that transcended the purely physical, Kathryn thought that first night. Her tears had dried after that, and she simply revelled lying in her husband's arms while he stroked her arm, with her hand on his chest; he occasionally leaned towards her to kiss her hair, or her forehead. 

"I thought of you always, Kathryn," he breathed later against her hair. 

"I know. It's why you are here..." 

"Yes..." 

They talked little, just content to touch, immerse themselves in feeling close. 

"Do you have pain?" she asked later. 

"Nothing I can't control..." 

She had his reports of the excruciating pain he’d endured; her interviews with Freyne Detroit and Captain Gredor were witness to how Chakotay had battled not to lose control. 

"Tell me when you need anything, Chakotay," she whispered against his neck, still concerned that he might be in pain. 

"Don't worry. I'll live through this like I lived through it the first time..." 

"You were not very exemplary then," she replied, remembering how he had given Doctor Paris some grief with his boorish behaviour. 

"I promise to behave..." 

"Good." 

Then it was quiet again for a long time until Kathryn could feel how Chakotay's breathing eased and evened out. The hand that covered hers on his chest, went limp and slid down. 

"Chakotay...?" 

He was asleep. 

**** 

Kathryn sighed deeply as she watched Chakotay with the children, Ceara running furiously about them. Now, almost three months later, He was far more at peace with himself. He loved his daughters, and the children were completely besotted with having their father around and being able to play with him. Hannah was eighteen months old and toddled about confidently. Winonah was progressing at a remarkable rate, especially since Chakotay's return. 

He used only a walking stick these days; however now, with the colder weather settling in, he sometimes had pain, which she noticed only when she woke up in the middle of the night to find his place next to her cold. Then she'd walk to the lounge to discover him sitting in his big chair, or standing at the wide window. Most times when she found him there, she would remain up with him, rubbing his legs, but not speaking. He refused to take pain killers, insisting that he could deal with it and that he would heal naturally. 

Watching Chakotay now, seeing how peaceful he is, and ready to resume work again, Kathryn thought of the man who was ashamed to consummate their union again. It had been what she feared and what she suspected that very first night, when he returned from the hospital and they were just content lying in one another's arms, that something was wrong, or missing. 

Not once that night did Chakotay touch her breasts, or her intimate area as she’d expected. It was something she desired. She had thought that that was what he wanted instantly. Just a hand straying to her core or caressing her breasts like they always did, that had always been enough to rouse them to a frenzy before they made love. 

No foreplay. 

There hadn't been anything for many weeks. 

One night... 

Chakotay had been looking at her all evening. She had not questioned him, and went about her tasks, trying to ignore the way her heart raced. He had been helping with Hannah after he had assisted Winonah, overseeing her homework. She couldn't forget the look in his eyes and later, when they had both repaired to bed, she had been filled with a breathless anticipation. They had not been intimate since his return and she had accepted that he needed to deal with some of the things that happened to him. She’d never pressed him for information at the time, but those periods watching him in the lounge in the dead of night, seeing how he grappled with his pain, she realised with hindsight that it was more serious than she’d imagined. While she thought as yet it was something they could deal with and share without having to see a counsellor together. Chakotay only wanted to take her in his arms at night, falling asleep later after they had both settled into their own comfortable positions. 

But that night... She was to be introduced to a shocking reality. 

"What is it, Chakotay?" she asked when his hand cupped her breast and she sidled instinctively closer to him. His hand stilled and then he pulled it away. 

"Sleep, Kathryn." 

"Chakotay, something's the matter and you...you're not talking. We haven't m-made love..." she stammered, her voice trailing away. 

Chakotay rose from the bed and walked to the lounge. Seconds later she stood next to him and when he put his arms round her, he gave a little sigh. 

"I - I ask that you be patient, Kathryn...what happened..." Chakotay's voice faltered. She looked up at him; his eyes looked haunted. 

"I need you..." she whispered, feeling close to tears. 

"I need you too," he said, tilting her head a little back and running his hands through her hair. "I need you very much, Kathryn, but..." There was another deep sigh that escaped him. He bent down to kiss her gently, her eyes closing at the touch, his fingers caressing her temples. The kiss lingered, and when he broke off the kiss, he straightened up. 

"Let's go to bed," she said softly, her eyes warm as they rested on him. Chakotay gave a smile, kissed her forehead again. 

"Yes... let's go..." 

Her heart raced as she pressed herself into him, and when they were back in the bedroom, she removed her nightgown and lay down on the bed. Kathryn kept her eyes on him as he stood at the edge of the bed. There was a glow in his eyes, one she knew so well, one that always intensified the moment she removed her nightgown, letting him feast on her body. 

Chakotay gave a groan as the bed gave a little under his weight. The light was at 30% illumination and she could see a hungry look in his eyes. She lay, hardly daring to breathe as he began to touch her lightly, his fingers just skimming over her breasts. Something happened inside her as her nipples sprang alive at his touch. She heard his breathing, slow and becoming heavier, as he leaned over her. Her hand covered his and she guided his touches over her body, the planes of her stomach, her core where the heat was so intense she felt she would explode.

Did she forget to watch Chakotay's eyes? 

Chakotay gave a groan as his fingers played over her moist centre and she gave a little cry, arching into him, raising herself so that his mouth was very close to her breast. She felt the heat of his breath and the next moment a mouth covered a nipple. 

Where did the tears spring from that ran down her face? 

Were they tears of pleasured punishment, or just cries of pain? 

All she knew was that Chakotay had almost bitten through her skin and his fingers thrust hard into her core, his nails digging and scraping as he moved along her sheath. Why did he bite her and scratch and claw as if the very demons of hell were greedily and unceremoniously eating into her? His breathing was harsh, his face absorbed when she finally looked into his eyes, seeing his demonic intent on inflicting hurt. 

"Please...please...stop... Chakotay!" 

But it seemed he didn't hear her. His mouth was in her neck, his teeth grazing so hard into her skin that she cried out again and writhed in anguish. One hand gripped her breast tightly and then the pain exploded; nails tore into her skin. Chakotay growled, spread her legs abruptly and entered her with a grunt. 

"No!" 

A blinding flash, hands that pressed against his chest and with a superhuman strength, which Kathryn Kathryn didn’t know she possessed, she pushed Chakotay off her and kicked him off the bed. He gave a surprised cry and landed on the floor with a thud. 

Kathryn lay sobbing for a few moments, and even in her trauma, prayed that the children didn't hear the sounds. She sat up, giving another cry as blood seemed to drip between her legs, her nipple almost severed, and deep scratches all over her skin. She knew with a sickening reality that if left like that, there would be revealing bruises all over her. Chakotay rose from the floor in a sluggish movement, shaking his head as he stood up straight. She saw his eyes, moments before wild in some kind of madness she didn't comprehend, awakening from that same mad dream, eyes that were filled with extreme pain, shame and humiliation...and penance... It was terrible to behold - Chakotay's remorse. 

He reached to touch her and Kathryn instinctively shrank away from him. 

"K-Kathryn...?" 

"Don't touch me, Chakotay," she whispered in agonised tones, covering her breasts in a protective manner. 

"W-What have I done?" Chakotay asked. "Oh, my G-God, w-what have I done?" His words came out in a coarse stammer. 

He had woken up from his bad dream, a hideous nightmare in which he was an aggressor and she a helpless victim. She gave a cry and held out her hand to him. 

Chakotay collapsed against her, and though her body ached from his onslaught, she held him to her. 

"Forgive...forgive me, I won't touch you again. I can't touch you again..." 

"Chakotay, tell me, for God's sake. I need to understand..." 

Chakotay lifted fevered eyes that sat deep in their sockets. 

"I'll never touch you again.... Forgive me..." 

"Tell me..." 

"I mustn't touch you... never... Forgive me...forgive me..." 

She drew him to her again, and his body began to shake, long, deep shudders wracking his emaciated frame. For a long time he sobbed against her. When at last she could feel that the shuddering had stopped, she still held him to her, stroking his hair, his cheeks. Her cheeks were wet from the tears. 

"Chakotay...who was I?" 

"W-what?" he asked, still mostly disoriented as he shifted to look at her. 

"Who was I just now? This body you tried to - to conquer?" 

"Kathryn, I - " 

"I must know, Chakotay. If we’re to get through this together, I must know of your pain," she had pleaded with him. "What - what happened on the Vetar?" 

It burst from him. "I tried to stop them, Kathryn. I tried. My hands were tied, most of the time. I couldn't fight." Then he took her in a desperate embrace and sobbed again. "I couldn't fight. I was held down..." 

"I know you couldn't fight back. I understand... But I wasn't those Cardassian soldiers, was I?" 

Kathryn, still in pain from her nipple that bled and her legs that felt sticky from the blood, held her breath. Chakotay needed to speak; if he couldn't face his demons now, he would never be whole again. She touched his cheek gently, watched in fascination how his tears dripped hotly over her hands. 

"Who was I, Chakotay?" she asked softly. 

Her heart thudded. 

"I - " 

"Please..." 

Chakotay's eyes remained closed, but his hand covered hers, and another sob came from deep inside him. 

"In - in the end...I couldn't fight anymore. I became Evek's lover..." 

This time Kathryn's eyes closed briefly, but she opened them again. Chakotay was in deep anguish. She had always sensed something had happened, but what he was telling her... She shook her head in denial of his words. But it was the truth. The terrible, unvarnished truth. What had happened was something Evek would have done, to avenge himself over Seska's death. Seska was Evek's abhail... Chakotay had to understand he was being punished... 

"It was out of your control, my love. You know that, don't you?" she whispered. 

"He was there every night. We - I..." 

"Shhh..." 

But the floodgates had been opened. 

"In the end, after the soldiers were done, he'd come to the room and - and...make love to me..." 

"Chakotay..." 

"In the end, I wanted to cry the way he made my body respond. I hated it, Kathryn. I hated it and I hated Evek. But when he came in the evening, he - he would be gentle, after the handling from the soldiers. He'd make me think he was you..." 

Chakotay shuddered and she could feel the wetness of his tears on his skin as she held him, crying with him. His tears were wrenched searing from his eyes and heart in torturous catharsis. 

"And then you imagined how you would bend him to your will and control him as he controlled you..." 

"Oh, Kathryn!" he cried out. "Every night I dreamed of you, and when I woke in the middle of the night, he was working on me, and always, I would think of our times together. I tried not to think, tried my hardest not to respond. Then, one thought of you and me, together... and - and then I was gone...gone...gone... Forgive me..." 

"I am Kathryn, your wife. I love you. Remember once I told you to share your pain? Your father taught me that, did you know?" Chakotay nodded, tried trying not to look at her body, and the damage he had done, but she held him, so that he had to face her. "Look at me, Chakotay. This body you wanted to make love to, is Kathryn, okay? I'm not Evek. Evek is dead. I killed him. In a bizarre way, I knew that he had to die so that there would be no Evek to terrorise us both again..." 

It seemed to her Chakotay was listening. He frowned, then his eyes widened as he looked properly at her, and saw the bruises that were forming, the bleeding nipples. He touched her, a hesitant gesture that made her want to cry out, especially as she saw how his eyes filled with tears again. 

"Forgive me..." he whispered hoarsely. 

"You were not in control, Chakotay. Forces outside our control were at work against us. You need to understand that you were powerless, okay?" 

"I'll not touch you again..." he murmured softly. 

"Chakotay, what I know is that I want you to touch me. We'll get through this together..." 

He held her close to him again, his hand caressing her; she could feel how he pressed his lips into her hair. The tears welled in her eyes again as she held on to him. 

"Help me, Kathryn... Help me..." 

She looked at him, a tired smile creeping to her lips. 

"You can get the med-kit - " 

He was off the bed, through to the bathroom and back with the med-kit before she could say anything more. 

Over the next few minutes, Chakotay, with the greatest care in the world, regenerated broken skin, eased her pain, and cleared up the bruises. He never touched her unless it was necessary and she ached for him. He had been quiet during the entire period, and when he was finished, he threw the sheets in the recycler, making up the bed with fresh ones. She just watched him as he went about his work, and it pained her how he couldn't look her in the eyes. Finally, when both were ready for bed again, he had been hesitant, standing again at the edge. She had given a sigh, knowing how humiliated he felt, how the shame had been the cross he’d born all these months. When she patted his place by her side, he had climbed in under the covers and then lay still, not touching her until she moved into his arms. He gave a groan and held her tenderly, as she whispered again over and over that she forgive him. 

She shed a few silent tears, just letting them roll down her cheeks. When she woke the next morning, Chakotay was already up, overseeing the children's breakfast and getting Winonah ready for school. Kathryn had wrapped her robe round her while she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching him. He had looked at her, and given her a shy smile before looking away again. 

After that night, Chakotay never touched her, just as he promised. He was afraid most nights when they went to bed, and on the days he had to go to Starfleet Medical for a check-up, he was at his most boorish. 

"Chak, for God's sake, you're retarding your own progress here," Sergei said on an exasperated note. 

"I'll be fine," Chakotay bit out. 

"No, you're not. You've lost more weight, and you're limping - " 

"I said I'll be fine." 

Sergei had given Kathryn a look and she shrugged, a little helpless herself in dealing with Chakotay. They had known it would not be easy; she knew that it was not so much his physical recovery that was hampered, but that his demons that rode with him every single day, and mostly during the night when they were in bed together, that caused him to be so ill-mannered. And always afterwards, the penitence which she couldn't take anymore. This was not her Chakotay, the man she’d married, the warrior who exuded so much inner strength. 

"Chakotay, you know you have to use the crutches. It won't be long now, then you'll be able to walk without them. It's only for a short while." 

She spoke in soothing tones, yet never over compassionate or over-sympathetic. It was the last thing he wanted. He hated the media who pestered them for interviews and who only left them alone after she made a plea to Starfleet Command, agreeing to wait till Chakotay was ready to grant them an audience. 

Chakotay had given her a long look, and she had given a sigh when he relented finally, the angry countenance again tender. 

"Sorry, Sergei." 

"No trouble, comrade," Sergei replied. "I've devised a simple exercise plan for you, which includes some sparring in the gym..." 

That had made Chakotay's eyes light up, and Kathryn had given Sergei a grateful glance. 

"Let's go home, Kathryn." 

"Yes." 

****** 

After that, they settled into a kind of routine, with the children always excited when they returned from playgroup and school. Winonah was a prodigious sketcher and never tired of drawing something for them. Hannah was just Hannah, a toddler who was excitable, rarely sick or off-colour, just wanting to play with her Daddy. 

In the evenings, when the children were asleep, Chakotay would be busy devising new strategies for manoeuvres, or reading up on Archeology. He was also given the specs of the new USS Prometheus which had been designated as his vessel, and which would only take its maiden voyage once Chakotay was ready. Already he had signed on Tom Paris and Freyne Detroit as his pilots. Kathryn had wondered about Freyne, and whether he hadn't wanted to be Chief Helm of Voyager. The young pilot had declined, saying he wanted to experience flying the secondary vessel of the Prometheus, with Karan Tor in the third vessel. With the remnants of war still on the horizon of the Federation, they were keen to test the Prometheus in battle. It had a revolutionary design, splitting up into three vessels during a combat situation. Kathryn gave a grin. It had an EMH so stuffy it wasn't funny. 

She would still be commanding Voyager, with James Hamilton as her chief pilot and her senior officers remaining with her. 

Those nights were quiet nights when they enjoyed the ambience, the silence that was never uneasy between them. Often Chakotay would look at her with a speculative, pensive look and she knew he was battling his demons. She welcomed it when he looked at her, for she knew that he needed to phase Evek out of his thinking, and replace the Cardassian's face with hers whenever he considered touching her, or even just touching. Slowly it was getting better after that night. While the first few nights she had tried not to cry herself to sleep because Chakotay lay away from her, not wanting to touch her for fear of hurting her, it had become easier after a while. She did cry the night he pulled her gently into his arms and brushed his lips fleetingly against hers. Then he had given a sigh as he allowed her to remain in his arms. She had fallen into a slumber, happier than she had been in weeks. 

Then the night of her birthday, things changed. They had taken the children out for the day, and Chakotay, happy that he was again home to share her birthday with her, presented her with the eagles he’d repaired, saying that it was time the eagles took pride of place on the mantelpiece again. The children had been over the moon, since it wasn't school for Winonah on that day and after being wished a happy birthday by family and friends, they had escaped in a shuttle and headed for a beach where the children could enjoy themselves and they could enjoy one another's company. 

It had been a wonderful day that ended with tears. She remembered the previous year, when Chakotay had been allowed to visit and made her birthday so memorable. This year they had returned with two exhausted children who were almost asleep by the time they had their baths. It was with a heartfelt sigh that she and Chakotay had kissed both children goodnight without reading stories to them. They were too tired. 

She had noticed all day the way Chakotay had looked at her and her heart had raced when she caught his gaze on her. Yet, when they retired for bed, Chakotay had been closed off, a shuttered look about him and she had turned her back to him, allowing the tears to run in frustrated silence down her cheeks. She could hear him breathing, knew he was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, the way he had done do so many nights. 

Did he hear her silent sobs that she hoped he wouldn't notice? She didn't want to attract his attention, demand his sympathy or let him think she was frustrated and hurt beyond measure that he couldn't be intimate with her. She had wanted him to see her understanding of his situation, that she knew how hard it was for him to separate his ordeal from the reality that was Kathryn's body, always ready to be loved by him.

What was it about her total desolation in those moments that made him grasp her shoulder with such incredible gentleness, so that she could look at him and see the concern in his eyes? 

"Don't cry, my Kathryn. Please, don't cry so..." he pleaded, at the same time caressing her cheek, then brushing his lips against hers. Something exploded behind her closed eyelids when he kissed her, before she felt a momentary bereftness when he broke contact, his breathing erratic as his hands slid under the straps of her nightie. 

"I miss you so much..." she whispered, then closed her eyes again as his fevered lips brushed away her tears. 

"I miss you too," came his ragged whisper, as he slid the gown off her shoulders and she instinctively lifted herself so that he could remove it completely. 

"I'm Kathryn...Kathryn...Kathryn..." came her broken entreaty, her encouragement as she realised that the demented look in his eyes was meant for her. He wanted her, the knowledge sang through her, a breezing song that lilted and moved in cadences so beautiful, her tears never stopped flowing after that. 

"I see you, my Kathryn," Chakotay's voice whispered above her as he settled himself between her legs and she shifted so he could be more comfortable. Her whole body was on fire, his arousal the most sensual touch against her belly. His hands were in her hair and he was kissing her, remembering their touches, reaffirming their mutual conquest. "I taste you. It's wonderful... It's honey...." he continued with his verbal onslaught on her senses. "Feel what you do to me, my Kathryn..." His voice was gruff, tender, hard, soft, his hands on her breasts caressing, sensual teasing of her nipples that drove her to the brink of ecstasy. She raised her face to his, wanting to kiss him, touching his lips, then her hands gripping his shoulders, tracing little paths to his hard nipples. Chakotay groaned, and when his hand moved between them to touch her core, he gave another loud moan, followed by a sob as he brought his hand to his mouth to taste her. He smelled her all over, not yet fusing his body with hers, just inhaling her scent. His mouth and lips traversed, finding, rediscovering, inhaled with awe, touched...touched... licked, dipped into her navel to pause there and lick again and again, her own small cries of exaltation a spur to his roving mouth and hands. She realised with giddy wonder that Chakotay wanted to commit her smell to him for all time and obliterate all other smells of his oppressors. 

It was working. 

She drew his head to her and she kissed him deeply, savouring his mouth, his tongue, plunging her own tongue into his mouth, playing, teasing, crying, realising at the same time that her instinctive fearlessness was the balm he needed, the assurance that he could ravage her body without hurting her. Her body was his in those moments, his alone. Soft moaning, hard groans, breath mingling and heavy gasping interspersed with low, short gasps as she allowed Chakotay to feast on her body. His own body was damp with pent-up need, but he seemed oblivious to it. He was laughing, crying, sobbing, kissing her all over. Once he slid down her body and rested his mouth on her core, sobbing again as his tongue lapped at her and she, brought to the brink of ecstasy, stormed over into a maelstrom of dizzying pleasure as she climaxed, arching with deep cries into his mouth. Then he slid up her body again. 

"Honey..." he murmured the moment he nudged her thighs apart and unerringly found her core. 

Why could the tears never stop? she wondered as Chakotay's cry filled the room. Briefly she looked in his face, suffused with heaven's grace, pain at the same time mingled with pleasure, before she drew him into her. His movements, at first careful, then more bold as he followed her own encouragement as she bucked against him, drawing him into her hilt, became strong, pure warrior. He felt good, the way he filled her so completely. No words followed, just their sounds that mixed, gasps and grunts, the moment timed brilliantly when she knew he would spill into her just as she arched high against him with a tender, rasping cry. Where was her body when she felt his seed spill into her? High up in the heavens? Amongst swirling clouds that enfolded them and drew them into a vortex of passion? She didn't know, only felt Chakotay hold her as if he would never let her go again, then letting her body down, back on the bed again, before he collapsed over her. 

She was dizzy, floating somewhere; long moments later, when the dizziness passed, and her own breathing returned to normal, she touched Chakotay's damp hair and his tear stained face. 

They had lain entwined for an eternity, loathe to separate their bodies. Chakotay's fingers twirled strands of her hair, and later he shifted so that there was not too much weight on her, and still she did not want him to relinquish his touch. A generous lethargy took hold of them, a languor that enfolded them both. A tear rolled down her cheek, a sob followed and a silent 'thank you' she thought Chakotay didn't hear. 

He raised his head lazily, looked deeply into her eyes. His own eyes were still damp with tears as he kissed her briefly. 

"Now I know forgiveness, my Kathryn..." 

********** 

Kathryn woke from her deep reverie where she was sitting in the lounge. She could hear the children's high pitched laughter and Ceara's barking. Her heart was filled with peace. The last six weeks had been the most thrilling of her life, and even as she knew that within weeks both she and Chakotay would be on their respective vessels, the children were excited at the prospect that they could hail their Mommy and Daddy at given times under their Grandmother's supervision. She could talk to Chakotay and like before when they were serving on the Crimond and the Ormskirk respectively, she could call him on their scheduled weekly subspace hails and talk, even make love. While in the last months they had established a routine and offered the children stability, those things would still be there in the next few years. Their missions were shorter and they would have more time for shore leave. 

Indiana was usually their base these days and most weekends they had come down here, to the house belonging to her and Chakotay. Phoebe had long ago relinquished her share opting to stay in Paris on a permanent basis with Rodea. Phoebe's old studio became Chakotay's with Winonah allowed a portion of it. The walls of their rooms sported the child's amazing creative attempts. Hannah... Kathryn sighed contentedly. Hannah was just the most loving child who crept into everyone's hearts. Wherever they went, Hannah would proudly point to Chakotay and say, "My Daddy!" 

It was time, Kathryn thought as she looked at her husband and the children, to go to him and walk with him back to the house. It was a very important day for him tomorrow, and they had come down to Indiana to relax and be with the children, and enjoy the last few days of their leave. While he still had a few nightmares, and she had stayed up in the night and sat with him, they realised that while his body healed at a remarkable rate, it would be a very long time before Chakotay could put the emotional damage where it belonged - in the past. 

Kathryn walked out on to the porch, and when Chakotay saw her, he rose to his feet and smiled brilliantly at her before he started towards her, taking the walking stick to aid him. There was purpose in his walk, a tenderness and strength combined, and her heart filled with unbearable love for him. The children were for a moment forgotten as he walked towards her. 

_And what if it breaks?_

_Why, we'll just put it together and it will be whole again._

_Your pain is mine too._

_Out of the unknown has often sprung life's greatest gifts._

_I would like to offer you my hand in friendship, Chakotay._

_I don't think friends is all I want to be with you, Kathryn._

_I can't promise not to die, sweet Kathryn..._

_I know. I'm ready now…_

_For what, Kathryn?_

_To walk with you, forever._

 

When Chakotay reached her, his face creased into a smile, his eyes resting warmly on her. He was recovering, she thought dazedly. It was in the relaxed planes of his face, in the way he smiled, his bearing, the return of his old strength. There were some nights the old terrors took hold of him, but always, she held him and waited until his tremors ceased and he could look at her again, his eyes clear and recognizing her. Those nights they didn't make love, but took solace in their spiritual connection.

She walked into his arms and rested her head against his hard chest.

"It's good to be alive, Kathryn," he whispered into her hair.

****** 

END CHAPTER THIRTY NINE


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, then epilogue to follow.

* * *

**Sons and Daughters of the Federation**

The Zephram Cochrane  Memorial Hall was filled to capacity. Chakotay, too much aware of Kathryn sitting next to him, didn't spend too much time looking around him. While he knew and acknowledged the day to be an auspicious one he had not wanted to be glorified as a hero, or as anything else. Still, Kathryn's presence was a comfort to him and when her hand stole into his to give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, he breathed a little easier. Although he had recovered from his ordeals, his left leg still ached at times, and today, despite the mild summer weather, he was in pain. He wasn't going to tell Kathryn that, but the way she squeezed his hand she knew about his discomfort. He cast her a quick glance. She looked just as beautiful as always, just as he remembered her, especially that first day he met her.

He would love her till the day she died. She was his destiny, the very breath of his life, and he knew with great conviction that had he never known her, his life would have be poor, devoid of the rich textures that filled it now. He leaned a little closer to her.

"Did I tell you that I like your new hairstyle?

Kathryn turned to him, arched her brow and lifted the corner of her mouth in an amused smile.

"When you were practically asleep in Voyager's sickbay on the way home."

"Oh?"

"You've forgotten? You never mentioned it afterwards..."

"Oh. So, I like your new hairstyle."

"Well, thank you," she replied in mock disappointment that he remembered so late.

"And you're sure the children are okay?"

"Shhh..."

"You're sure?"

He had to know. It had been the most poignant meeting with them when he returned home and Winonah called him Daddy... Why, his daughters were all over him. He was completely certain he'd never want them to leave and lose their hearts to undeserving young men, and he was instantly angry just at the thought that he'd have to let them go one day. Never out of his heart though. Never.

"Mom's taking care of them in the back.. Chakotay, you   - "

"I get worried."

"I know."

Only Kathryn knew how how sick he could get not knowing they were safe. Once he had them both sitting in his big chair at home, and he just looked at them, enjoying their childish giggling. They were his kids and he'd kill to keep them safe. Almost, Winonah had been lost to them forever and Chakotay felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest thinking of Sekaya, his sister, who died trying to protect her little girl. Then he shook his head, attempting to dispel all evil thoughts from him.

He looked about him, for the first time really noticing the people of different races, most in civilian clothing, as well as the officers in Starfleet uniform. Today they were all in dress uniform - he hadn't worn his in ages. He knew he looked too thin, and his clothes sat loosely on him. This morning a flash of concern had crossed Kathryn's features when she looked at him and he had shrugged, telling her that in time, he'd regain his weight.

Kathryn, of course, looked beautiful. She could wear sack cloth and look good in it. He'd have endless joy just imagining what was under the sackcloth. Preferably, there should be nothing under the rough sack. He remembered the day he returned to Earth after six months in deep space, after having communicated with Kathryn via subspace during that time. He had been fraught with anguish when she didn't meet him, and when he went home eventually, thinking that she'd left him, there she stood in his lounge, dressed in a blue dress. Seconds later, holding her in his arms, he realised she wore nothing under the dress. It had sent him wild with lust that day. Chakotay gave a sigh, reigned in his runaway passion, and tried not to think of Kathryn in her blue dress or sackcloth, or, heaven forbid, that beautiful burgundy dress she wore the evening in Paris when he escorted her to the Command Performance for the President of the Federation.

In front sat Admirals Paris, Ponsonby and Lewis looking like they were joined at the hip. Chakotay gave a grin. They were the men who shaped his career, who gave him his life, so to speak. He owed them everything. Ponsonby looked on him as a son, and Chakotay didn't mind being called 'son' by the extremely reserved gentleman

The commendations were almost completed, and the most important part of the ceremony was about to start. He had never thought of himself as a hero, but today he was going to be decorated as one. What had he done for the Federation? No more than all other Starfleet Officers and Maquis who paid the highest price during the war. He didn't feel like a hero. He did what had to be done, and he had done it well, he supposed. He almost lost his life, he almost lost his wife and child. But by the graces, he could walk the earth and hold his head up high, that he would have died knowing the cause was worthy of his sacrifice.

He had not met any of the other officers and civilians today who were to be remembered for their deeds, but Berrol Oldimar was sitting across the aisle from him, and Captain Gredor, the only Ketarchan in Starfleet, sat next to him. Gredor looked good, his ridges that had been sawn off, had been regenerated. Earlier Chakotay  had seen Freyne Detroit with Tom's mother, where they were seated somewhere near the back. Some faces he hardly recognised, but two young men who nodded severely when they passed him, he vaguely remembered as prisoners with him on Jarok.

Chakotay looked at Kathryn again. She was still holding his hand but also looking with keen interest around her. She smelled of her favourite perfume and for a moment he was a little dizzy again, thinking how they’d made love the previous night in Indiana. A ripple of pleasure went through him. Kathryn was warm, her skin taut, soft, firm, silky, everything at once. He could never get enough of her softness and her generosity. The many weeks before her birthday had been difficult, so difficult that he had never wanted to touch her again after injuring her like he had.  He had been ashamed, embarrassed, still filled with the humiliation of what happened to him on the Vetar. That night of her birthday they had taken a momentous step forward, and he a giant stride in his own emotional recovery. For many months, lying on the beds of the prison of Cardassia Prime, he thought how he could never face and confront head-on what happened to him. He had no control, and there lay the difference. He had never been a willing participant, even if he were made to think at times that he was. It was a shameful chapter of his life that he could not unwrite, or eradicate. It would walk with him till the day he died.

Kathryn... Chakotay gave a little sigh. She was the most patient person on Earth. There were nights that he woke up gasping, disoriented, thinking he was on Evek's ship, looking at Kathryn and seeing  Evek's face superimposed on hers. With love and great tenderness, she would comfort him through those dark hours until he could breathe again and not hate himself so much. Those nights were decreasing, but he was realistic, knowing that they'd always haunt him, that there would always be some trigger that would send him into those dark tunnels of self-loathing and humiliation time after time.

However he was bolstered by the knowledge that Kathryn would be there, always there, and when the time came that he'd be in deep space on the Prometheus and she on Voyager, he'd not hesitate to hail her when his dreams turned to nightmares.

"Chakotay..."

He shook himself from his reverie as he felt Kathryn nudging him. He looked at her, shared with her for a few precious moments an unspoken message of love before the President of the Federation took the stage.

"Captain Chakotay..." came the deep voice of the President.

"Good Luck," Kathryn said softly, her eyes misting over. "I'm proud of you..."

Chakotay leaned across to kiss Kathryn.

"Just for that look in your eyes, I promise to be wildly delightful tonight," he vowed softly, and the returning glow in her eyes was unmistakable as she read his message.

"And I promise to pay you back..."

Chakotay rose from his seat, took his walking stick and moved forward slowly. As he walked, feeling the eyes of the people on him, the glow he had looking at Kathryn and kissing her and feeling how she responded, evaporated. Suddenly he felt like a fish in a bowl, sick to the core of being watched by so many people, not only in the Memorial Hall, but on vid-screens in other homeworlds within the Federation. He felt eyes boring into him, heard one or two sympathetic clicks of the tongue, and bit his lip. He was fine walking to the podiums; he only needed his walking stick, didn't he? What did they know? Only the Admirals, his family and his doctors, his fellow prisoners on Cardassia Prime knew the extent of his injuries. Only Kathryn knew intimately of what he endured, of his raging torment.

_They want to honour you, Chakotay. Accept it with grace._

He hadn't wanted to be singled out. Kathryn felt differently, reminding him in her gentle, firm  voice that he could never resist, that the goodwill messages he received from all over the Federation, from Starfleet Command, from his former inmates and Maquis, meant that they loved and respected him, revered his leadership and applauded his courage and determination to survive.

_For you..._

His leg was aching, and he was a little out of breath by the time he reached the stage. He wished Kathryn was standing beside him. He wished he could go home and sit in his chair and read his book and feel Kathryn running her fingers through his hair. He wished... Chakotay just heard the voice drone on and on while he couldn't decide where to fix his gaze. So he looked the President in the eyes

"...and performing an invaluable service for the War Office, identifying and destroying key installations of the enemy..."

Chakotay noticed the President didn't say _Cardassians..._

"With Captain Chakotay's significant contribution to the effort of this Federation to bring to close a war that killed millions and in which countless of homeworlds had been left decimated by the enemy, our own offensives would have been delayed. This would have been a protracted engagement..."

Chakotay sighed. What had he contributed? He’d lost so much, and almost lost his wife and daughter.

"...and as a leader of what we had considered a renegade band of fighters, branded as traitors whose only cause was to protect homeworlds..."

Chakotay thought how Kathryn had been ostracized for being married to a Maquis. Admirals like Hays and Nechayev had given her so much grief and she defended him because she believed in him. Once Kathryn told him how she had heated words with Nechayev.

_If you ask me if I'm on my husband's side, then I'll have to tell you yes..._

All those thoughts came back, listening to Kathryn telling him of the Nechayevs and men like Hays who thought Chakotay and the rest of the Maquis should be behind bars. Yet, the Federation had relented their stance. When they knew that their only way forward and out of the bloody mess that was the war, was through the Maquis, then the Maquis had their uses. He couldn't help feeling bitter and only when he glanced and caught Kathryn's eye, did he relent. He was not a vindictive man, but when it came to protecting his wife and child and those dearest to him, he knew he'd kill. No, he sighed. The Federation was generous in its praise, in the way they recanted, even managing to bring Nechayev round to acknowledge Chakotay and the work he had done.

One of the more satisfying meetings he had was with Nechayev, in her office. The cheerless woman - it was a name Kathryn liked to append to the unsmiling admiral - managed a smile. He had not met her before in person, and his initial apprehension soon vanished when she extended her hand and he shook it.

"Captain, there are a few things over which I feel strongly. However, I admit I have been wrong about you..."

"Thank you, Admiral. It means a lot to me."

Nechayev had given a smile and Chakotay remembered to tell Kathryn later that day that the woman looked quite attractive... "Uh, in an admiral sort of way..." he amended when Kathryn gave him a mock baleful glance.

"...and for overseeing and laying to rest the citizens of Dorvan V, and ensuring compassionate and dignified final rites.."

_citizens..._

"…But, most importantly, the manner in which Captain Chakotay, in a standoff with the enemy, agreed to forfeit his own freedom to save the lives of his comrades and the crew of the Federation starship Voyager. For which Captain Chakotay was willing to lay down his life..."

_Alive, I would be dead without my Kathryn_

_Thoughts of you and our little girl will keep me alive..._

"...and in encouraging his fellow prisoners and instilling in them the will to live and to survive in the most extreme adversity..."

_Listen son, we're gonna make it out of here, you hear me?_

_You'll tell your children and your grandchildren about the Rubáiyát..._

Chakotay felt a sob rise in his chest. He battled to control the memories, the battle to survive, forcing images of the butchers, of Evek, of the dry earth of Jarok to be replaced with images of Kathryn, of Hannah, Winonah... They mattered to him now. His wife, his children and the new family he’d acquired because of her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"We honour Captain Chakotay with the United Federation of Planets' highest award for bravery...the Honoris Crux - Gold."

_Cross of Honour..._

There was applause which sounded deafening, and then gradually petered out, the auditorium becoming almost quiet except for someone who coughed.

"We ask a very special young lady to come forward..."

Chakotay frowned. Who would pin his medal on him? He’d always thought it was the job of the President, something many regarded as an honour in itself. Then there was a hush as a figure moved from a side entrance. The child moved towards him and even with the light from the open door behind her, he could see it was Winonah, who carried something in her hand.

When she reached him, she stood still, looked a moment at the tall figure of the President.

"Captain Chakotay, we ask the only survivor of the massacre on Dorvan V to perform the honour on behalf of the Federation."

"Daddy?"

Chakotay went down on bended knee and Winonah stepped closer. For the first time he felt the tears threatening to spill from him. Winonah pinned on his medal, and he gave a little smile. She must have practiced it somewhere, for she knew exactly where to place the new pin

"Thank you, Winonah."

"I love you, Daddy..."

**** 

So, many commendations were awarded and Chakotay, seated next to Kathryn again, felt a deep sadness take hold of him. They remembered Tomaso who died sending out the critical communications to the Ormskirk the day the Cardassians attacked the planet. They remembered Winonah who was the only survivor of the massacre. Chakotay thought that Winonah, looking so unbelievably brave, was just a little girl who still had nightmares of her trauma. On those nights either he or Kathryn, or sometimes both of them, would sit with her and comfort her through her fears. Not long afterwards, her eyes would droop, but she would still hold on to his hand or Kathryn's as she fell asleep again.

There was only one night that he had been compelled to take her to Starfleet Medical in the dead of night, while Kathryn stayed home with Hannah. Sergei had been on duty and like he had done on Voyager a number of times, managed to sedate the frightened child and then bring her gently out of  the nightmare that gripped her. It was always such a radical contrast to him to see Winonah during the day, when she was bubbly at times, giggling with Hannah, ever helpful around the house and just so balanced on the outside. Then there were no traces of her terrible dreams.

Phoebe was wonderful. His sister-in-law, who had been so angry with him and ready to phaser him out of existence, became his friend, and it was she who encouraged Winonah in her art, guiding her to express her feelings and experiences through her sketches. Winonah loved her new family, but Chakotay was always ready to bet that her Aunt Kathryn, with whom she bonded so naturally way back on Dorvan V when they visited there, was firmly established in her life as "Mommy", and her closeness to Kathryn was very special. She knew her Mama and Papa and recordings of them were always available for her  but although she couldn’t express her feelings, that was how she behaved. They were her parents now and he felt a great sense of  closure that they could find their daughter and bring her home to Earth - a place for which she, like Tomaso, like her Uncle Chakotay, had hankered.

After pinning on his badge Winonah had moved directly with him down the long aisle, her hand in his, looking straight ahead of her. When they reached his seat, she released his hand and moved to where her grandmother was sitting holding a sleeping Hannah.

Kathryn hooked her arm through his when he sat down.

"You're in pain," she said matter-of-factly.

He nodded. There was concern in her eyes, but also the knowledge that they would be back at the hospital as soon as proceedings were over, so that he could get a painkiller.

"I want to go home," he told her, covering the hand that had hooked through his arm.

"It's not long now," she said, inclining her head again to where Admiral Paris, Lewis and Ponsonby had begun listing the names of those honoured posthumously.

"We call on Kor'ena Landral..." Chakotay heard Admiral Paris's voice.

"Landral?" Chakotay asked Kathryn.

"You'll see," she said, trying to quell his curiosity, briefly satisfied when a tall, ageing Klingon woman walked from a side entrance.

"I told you about Xandor," Kathryn said to him.

"The man who saved Winonah's life?"

"Yes..."

They watched in revered silence as Kor'ena Landral stood near the podium.

It was a moment Chakotay would remember for a long time. Kor'ena stood with proud bearing as she heard her son's commendations.

"Xandor Landral died saving the lives of countless children orphaned during the war and ensuring their safety by placing them in the care of overseers..."

Chakotay's eyes misted again and he bent his head, feeling how Kathryn's hand rested on his shoulder. He had known there were many Cardassian dissidents, had suspected that on the Vetar were one or two warriors who would not die for the Cardassians' cause. It was why he hoped so fiercely, hoped without ever giving up, that Winonah could have survived the massacre. There were many men and women such as Xandor Landral.

Chakotay didn't really want the memories to swamp him, but he couldn't help thinking of all the others who sacrificed their lives. There were Gerron's two friends too, blackmailed by the Cardassians and then murdered afterwards. Chakotay had read most of the reports the last few months, and, after Kathryn told him, knew of the work done by Xandor Landral, a Cardassian-Klingon hybrid. Once, when Winonah had one of her nightmares, she spoke of the warrior who was kind to her, although she was afraid of him in the beginning. She had given Xandor the locket, and though she couldn't speak, Landral had sensed that he had to give it to someone whom Winonah knew.

"Therefore, we honour the work done amidst great risk and personal safety, by men and women like Xandor Landral, who died saving the lives of children..."

Chakotay rose quietly from his seat when Kor'ena Landral left the stage. The proceedings were almost over and he needed to breathe in fresh air. Once outside, he was not surprised that others had the same idea and were milling about. Soon after he came out, Gretchen Janeway joined him, and a minute later, Kathryn.

"Are you okay?" Gretchen asked him, touching his arm in concern. His fingers gripped the walking stick.

"Yes...yes, I suppose. I just needed to get out..."

"I understand," said Gretchen, who was still holding a sleeping Hannah. Winonah moved to stand in front of Chakotay, who bent down to touch Winonah's cheek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I didn't dream last night..."

"No, you didn't. You slept right through, very peacefully. I came to kiss you goodnight..."

"I know you did!" It seemed Winonah wanted to jump up and down right there. She sounded like she was about to hyperventilate, just like an over excited Hannah at times. When he grimaced and rubbed his leg, Kathryn picked up on it instantly.

"You need to see the doctor," Kathryn reminded him. "We don't have to go back in."

"Yes. I think I must - "

Then Chakotay froze suddenly. The hairs at the back of his neck bristled and a strange queasiness took hold of him. He clutched at his stomach, and frowned heavily. He wasn't sick, except for the persistent pain in his left leg. The right leg had healed almost completely, but his fall down the mine shaft of Moldor IV had all but ensured that his left leg never let him forget it was "good soup", as Sergei once put it. Still, he looked at Kathryn, seeing her through a warm, light haze.

"Chakotay?"

"I'm not feeling too good. I don't understand..."

"What's the matter?" Kathryn asked, grabbing his arm. At her touch Chakotay stiffened noticeably, swearing under his breath when he saw the hurt look in her eyes.

"N-no, it's not you, Kathryn. I'm sorry. It's something, a - a smell maybe - "

"What kind, Chakotay? There's nothing here, not even Boothby's burning twigs."

"Mommy! Mommy!" Winonah cried out, pulling at Kathryn's uniform jacket. Hannah woke up with a start and immediately looked around, beginning to cry plaintively. Kathryn quickly relieved her mother of the child and soothed the baby.

"What is it, Winonah?" Chakotay and Kathryn asked simultaneously.

"Over there!"

Winonah pointed to the far end of the plaza near a column. A woman stood there. They could see from the distance the woman was Cardassian. Then Winonah broke her hold on Kathryn's jacket and started running in the direction of the woman.

"Winonah! Come back!" Chakotay shouted to the child, but Winonah kept running until she reached the woman.

Chakotay turned to Kathryn. Something was happening inside him, like a churning in his stomach. He felt physically sick, and knew that to Kathryn and Gretchen he must have lost colour. He balled his fists tightly and grit his teeth. He looked at Winonah and the woman again, and turned on his heel, meaning to walk as far away from the woman as possible. He knew with some dread it was unfair, illogical and that his reaction to her bordered on the irrational. A hand grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Oh no, Chakotay," Kathryn hissed under her breath, "you need to face this. We will always encounter Cardassians. That woman - "

" - smells Cardassian. I've had enough of their smell, Kathryn. Enough, you hear me?" Chakotay saw again through a haze, how Hannah started to cry and how Gretchen quickly took the distraught baby and walked away from them.

"That woman, Chakotay, took care of our daughter for us for six months. It's natural for Winonah to greet her and remain friendly. She's a child, Chakotay, a child who recognised without any prejudice the goodness that was in another being. Penytt Sarra - "

"She's Penytt Sarra?" Chakotay asked dazedly. He had known of her, had known of her deeds on Kodari IV. Kathryn's eyes flashed, then became soft again.

"There's a universe of compassion and goodness in her, Chakotay. Please, go, meet her."

Chakotay bristled for a few moments, his heart thundering in his chest as Winonah and Penytt Sarra walked towards them. Slowly they approached and it seemed to him that Penytt Sarra's movement was hesitant. Was she afraid of him? Chakotay looked quickly at Kathryn, saw her smile tenderly. Slowly, the restlessness ceased, a little quiet replacing the loud thunderbeats of his heart. He sighed again, the smell pervasive. He knew intellectually that it wasn’t Penytt Sarra, but her presence that triggered the memory of his time on the Vetar and the abuse by the warriors and Gul Evek. Just the association of that smell had followed him since the day Sedeka seduced him. There were times he couldn't get it out of his nose; in the middle of the night he'd wake up in a sweat, almost nauseous, and then he would hug Kathryn to him, hold her close and smell her body all over, to establish again some normalcy and the blessed reality that his ordeal was over.

"You're a good person, Kathryn," he said, his throat thick with emotion. He was glad she stood next to him, glad of her presence; it was something that strengthened him immeasurably.

"Penytt Sarra is a good person, Chakotay. She lost five sons during the war..."

"She stood outside, all this time," Chakotay said reflectively, appalled at the realisation that she was not welcome at the ceremony.

"There were sacrifices on both sides," Kathryn responded.

"I know," he sighed. "I know..."

The old woman and the young child reached them. There was a silence that hung in the air, a moment in which no one spoke. Chakotay met Penytt Sarra's eyes. They were dark, with a sadness in them that Chakotay had never seen before in anyone. It was as if it lingered on her body, exuded from her person, reflected in her eyes and spoke of her loneliness. A thin bar was pinned to her coat, and Chakotay knew it wasn't something that was given her by the Federation. There was at one end the Cardassian insignia, followed by five small stars. Chakotay didn't have to wonder what the stars symbolised, and he was still so drawn to the pin that he hardly realised Winonah was shaking him and Kathryn was giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

It was Penytt Sarra who spoke first. The lines of her face were creased from age, and Chakotay supposed, the arid conditions of Kodari IV. Her hands were at her sides and Winonah had moved away from her to stand next to Kathryn.

"I came here with Kor'ena Landral."

It was a sound that was melodious. It was the first thing Chakotay noticed, the harshness of others of her race when they spoke, was not present in her voice. Her long hair, combed back severely and pulled into a ponytail of sorts, had streaks of grey in it.

"You did not come in," he stated.

"You know what I am. But I wished to see your little girl." Penytt Sarra's eyes focused on the smiling Winonah.

"She looked after me, Daddy!"

"I know, sweetie."

Chakotay looked at Penytt again, then extended his hand. She took his hand gratefully and shook it.

"Captain, I want to offer my apology on behalf of those of us on Kodari IV - "

"Please, Penytt Sarra. Do not apologise. You are a good woman. I knew that a planet existed where many men and women like you went to settle. I hoped that Winonah was in your safe haven."

Penytt Sarra gave a relieved smile, a smile that seemed to wipe away the drawn, sad look.

Then Kathryn stepped forward and hugged the older woman. There were tears in their eyes.

"Thank you, again, Penytt Sarra, for taking care and loving our little girl. She has not forgotten you..."

"Not...?"

"I drew a picture of you, Penytt Sarra," Winonah offered.

"If we know where you're staying, I could let you have it before you leave for Kodari IV," Kathryn suggested and Chakotay wanted to love Kathryn all over again.

People were beginning to mill about and out of the corner of his eye Chakotay could see Gretchen and Adam Ponsonby, who was carrying Hannah, approaching them. He turned to Penytt Sarra.

"You are a greater hero than I am, Penytt. You have lost much, but you have given back more than what you lost. There is greatness in that."

"Thank you, Captain Chakotay. I was not certain how you would receive me, but young Winonah here assured me that her Daddy is the greatest Daddy in the world and that he would like me because his daughter likes me..."

"I'd say that is a recommendation indeed," Chakotay replied. "You must forgive me, Penytt Sarra, that I did not receive you well - "

"I am ashamed of what my people have been, of what they could still be. My work continues on Kodari IV and so I must take my leave of you..."

Penytt Sarra didn't wait for them to respond. She simply inclined her head as a greeting to them and then turned to walk in the direction she had come from. Chakotay stared for long moments after the woman whose stance was so proud and erect, who’d lost five sons during the war. Chakotay, knowing how insensitive the Cardassian Council was to the trauma within its own ranks, sensed that they had simply sent her the pin as  a 'thank you' note that her sons had sacrificed their lives for the Cardassian cause.

"We'll visit her, Chakotay," Kathryn said, also looking at the figure of Penytt Sarra becoming smaller, the further she moved away from them.

Kathryn hooked her arm through his and he expelled a sigh of relief. Looking down at her, her hair shining in the sun, and with Winonah holding her other hand, he felt joy filling him. He had met Penytt Sarra, a Cardassian woman who carried the memories of her dead sons in her heart, who had given Winonah a place in that same heart. He felt good, felt how joy rushed through his veins, making him a little dizzy. Dizzy and light.

"Chakotay?"

"Daddy?"

He gave his wife and daughter his most dazzling smile.

"Come," he said suddenly, moving with them towards Gretchen and Adam, "my family wants me..."

*********************************

Kathryn reclined in their big bed, one hand under Chakotay's pillow. She stirred dreamily, turned on her back and gazed at the ceiling. She imagined she saw there a tapestry that was woven of her life, and the rich textures that marked the beginning of it with Chakotay.

She gave a sigh of contentment. The children were in bed, after both had insisted it was fine for Hannah to bunk with Winonah and Chakotay had told them story after story until they were both asleep. They had remained in the room, watching their daughters sleep, Hannah with her thumb in her mouth, her cheeks flushed and lips red, totally at peace with the world. Winonah had stirred once or twice, curved her arm around Hannah's body and shifted her sister closer to her. It was such a beautiful little tableau, and when her eyes rested on Chakotay, she wanted to burst with love for him. Chakotay couldn't keep his eyes off the children, and when he caressed their heads, she could see how his fingers trembled. It was a precious moment, too precious to intrude.

Later, they had come to bed, and just like he promised, he was wildly delightful, worshipping her body. He had been so tender at times that she wanted to cry as their bodies joined. Tonight, none of the old shadows that were always in his eyes, the hollowness that made him appear so unhappy at times, were there; they had made way for an incredible attentiveness to her own needs, her own desires and the little demands she made on his body. It was so poignant to witness how clear his eyes were, how focused on her and their lovemaking. In their private little world, only Kathryn and Chakotay existed, and thinking again how passionate they had been, brought ripples of pleasure through her.

Kathryn turned to the space next to her. Chakotay wasn't there. The thought that he’d left the bed didn't disturb her, although it must have been hours since they made love. She gave another sigh of pleasure, decided to get up and look in on him in the lounge. She rose and put on her robe and slippers.

The lounge was dark, and only a lamp stand next to the chair casting about 20% illumination in the room. The book he had been reading lay on his lap, almost forgotten. The music was muted, soothing. Chakotay loved the slow movements full of cadence and melody, and the andante from Mozart's piano concerto - always hailed as Elvira Madigan - filled the room with beauty. Earlier it was Bach's concerto for two violins that drifted to her while she still lay in bed.

When she reached him, she wondered whether she should have intruded at all. Chakotay's eyes were closed, his head thrown back and resting against the backrest. She smiled tenderly, noting the title of the book. Chakotay had always been so passionate about Khayyám's _Rubáiyát_ which he had bought one day at a little shop selling collectibles in Louisiana. She bent down and caressed the gold embossed letters on the cover. Then she straightened, gave a little sigh and made to move away.

"Stay," came the soft command.

Chakotay opened his eyes, beckoning her to join him.

"Your legs..." she started as he pulled her to sit on his lap.

"The pain's gone."

She buried his face against him, inhaled his musk and gave a little moan. One hand held her close to him while with the other, he held the book.

"You're strong, Chakotay."

"Only because I have you," he whispered against her hair.

"Our little eagles...they are joined forever now..."

"Grey Eagle would be proud."

"He can hear us."

"He hears the eagles."

"I know."

"Once, Grey Eagle told me: 'In flight, there is nothing more natural, more majestic than the eagle as it climbs against the sky. She is confident, knows where and what her destination is...and those destinations she doesn't know, she flies towards by instinct, even if danger lurks at the next turn...even if she doesn't know what lies at the end…'"

"Once, your father took me to the habak on Dorvan V to experience my first vision quest..."

"He let you see my grandfather..."

"He told me that I walk the path of the grey eagle with Chakotay. He said the day would come that the eagle would fly from me..."

"I guess you asked him what to do when that happened, right?"

Kathryn nodded, dropped a kiss against his temple.

"He told me never to lose sight of the eagle..."

They were quiet a long time after that. It was a good, companionable silence. Again, Kathryn's fingers traced the embossed letters of Chakotay's book.

"You know..." Chakotay started softly, turning to face her. His eyes were clear, warm.

"What...?"

"A lot of things happened to us, Kathryn... I used to think that I was fine on my own, living my life my way..."

"You wished things could have been different?" she asked him, suddenly afraid of his answer

"I used to recite some of the Rubáiyáts when - when things were very bad..."

She knew that he had not been allowed any possessions, and that it had been very strange that he could keep the locket she had given him. The Rubáiyáts he’d simply memorised, most of them at least.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered.

"No, don't be, Kathryn. I began to think that however bad it was, what happened to me, it happened and I could never change it, nor do I want to, you know."

"Did you ever think you were sorry you took me on that blind date?" she asked, her heart thudding.

"Never. That's the thing, my love. I wouldn't want to relive what happened to me, but they're a part of the book of my life. If I wished for these thing not to be there, I would have to take you out of those parameters..."

"I would have been lonely, my soul impoverished for not having known you, Chakotay..."

Chakotay gave her a tender smile. She knew what he would say now, and it brought peace to her heart.

"I used to recite one _rubáiyát_ that became the meaning of my life. If I’d never met you, I might never have been Sedeka's slave, or Evek's slave, or a prisoner on Cardassia Prime; I might never have been tortured and beaten beyond my strength..." Chakotay gave a deep sigh, his voice suddenly hoarse with emotion. "I might also never have known your love, your incredible generosity and strength; I might never have had Hannah who fills up my life... I might never have known true love..."

"I love you..."

"Kathryn, my life is infinitely enriched because you are in it and an indelible part of it. I would not have it any other way. You are my destiny. We have weathered storms no humans should be asked to endure, yet we've come through them. With time and love and caring, we'll be whole again..."

"That is the most beautiful vow, Chakotay..."

Chakotay smiled again tenderly, then opened Omar Khayyám's _Rubáiyát_ at the fifty first rubáiyát. He started reading softly,

 

_The Moving Finger writes; and,  having writ,_

_Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit_

_Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line_

_Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it._

_**********************************_

 

END

 Short epilogue to follow

 

 

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue - quite short!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My most gracious thanks to all who read this story, who were "transported" by it, to all who offered kudos, to all who commented on the various chapters. Thank you for traveling with me on this journey.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

Chakotay stood in front of the cheval Kathryn had installed in the bedroom. He pulled at the bowtie, trying his best to make it at least look symmetrical with his head and shoulders. Ten minutes ago, the bow was sitting lop-sided; Winonah had given a long-suffering sigh and told him to go back and fix it.

"I only do the first part, Daddy, and that is to tie the bow. The rest you must do. Otherwise, what will Mommy think?"

"Fine, you're setting pretty high standards there, Winonah."

"Hannah agrees with me, Daddy."

"How can Hannah agree? She is only three years old, too young to form an opinion on white tie and tails."

"You're not wearing tails, Daddy."

"Thank you for stating the obvious. I was making an example."

"Fred Astaire wore top hat, white tie and tails."

"Courtesy Uncle Tom, right?"

"He let me watch the movie, Daddy."

"Thanks a lot. Now where's Hannah? If she has an opinion, she'd better voice it now."

"Hannah!"

Chakotay sighed. That was ten minutes ago and Hannah, all of three years old, her hair hanging past her little bottom, tossed her head and declared that Mommy would be mad because his bowtie sat skew.

Now he was ready and the girls were waiting in the lounge, with their Grandmother who was taking care of them for a few days. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the lounge, and stood in front of the three of them.

"Okay, ladies. How do I look?" he asked.

"You smell of cologne, Daddy!"

"Of course."

"Very debonair, Chakotay," said Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby.

"Thank you. Hannah?"

"You look sexy, Daddy!"

"Sexy? Only Mommy is allowed to call me sexy..." he drawled.

"Okay, Daddy. Uncle Tom said I must say you look groovy."

"Uncle Tom, huh."

"I love you, Daddy!"

"Love you too, muffin."

"You can't eat me, Daddy!" Hannah crowed happily.

"It's a term of endearment, Hannah," Winonah said with all her eight year old wisdom.

"Go and enjoy yourself, Chakotay. The children will be fine. Adam and I are taking them with us to Risa for a few days. Don't come back before then. You deserve your own little second honeymoon."

"In a tuxedo?"

"That's the start of it. Now, get out of here."

"Yes, Daddy. Get out! Go a _way_!"

Chakotay laughed, bent down to kiss Hannah, then Winonah who rose on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Take good care of my girls, Gretchen."

"And you must take good care of my girl," replied Gretchen.

Five minutes later Chakotay was in his shuttle, still smiling at the way his daughters and mother-in-law teased him. His heart thudded in his chest when he thought of Kathryn. The journey, only about half an hour, was too long. He was in a hurry to get there, but had to engage impulse power.

It was with relief that Chakotay finally approached the front door of the apartment in Paris. It wasn't the same apartment, but the vacant one next door that Kathryn had rented for a month. He took a deep breath, smoothed down his jacket and trousers, tugged once again at his bowtie and thought Hannah would tell him again how Kathryn would be mad. Then he pressed the chime and waited.

 

After waiting about a minute, with no response, he pressed again. Sighing, he touched the door jamb and leaned against it.

The door opened.

Kathryn stood there, wearing the same miraculous burgundy dress she wore the first time he stood just like this and stared in mute stupefaction at her. The light behind her gave her an ethereal appearance, shooting little glints off her hair. Her hair... No longer in the chignon she wore the first time, but still as heavenly elegant, smoothed into her neck, tucked on one side behind her ear so her earring was visible... He imagined he could smell the brandy, or the fresh apples, or some oil from foreign lands...

He fell in love with her.

"Sergei told me you had ten moles and a wart."

"I was expecting to see an old man from the outer reaches of Federation space, an old fogey out of touch with humanity and who snored. At least now I know you snore..."

"And you have a mole right there on your - "

"Come in, Chakotay and don't disgrace yourself before we even leave," she cut him off.

"I want to kiss you."

"After the performance. You think I'd want to smudge everything now?"

Chakotay felt his inside burst into flames. He was besotted all over again and all Kathryn had to do was just smile...smile! He reined in his passion, and drilled himself into a semblance of order. He gave a little cough, leaned forward and kissed her forehead in a chaste brush of his lips.

"Come, are you ready?" he asked, holding his arm for her.

"As I'll ever be."

"Is Junior behaving?" he asked as he skimmed one hand over her belly.

"He'd better be asleep through the performance of the Mahler Symphony," she said, smiling as they left the apartment to walk the short way to the flitter that waited for them.

"It's a Command Performance for the President of the Federation. Junior will be in exalted company. He'll behave. We'll tell the children the good news later. Happy?"

"Supremely."

"So am I."

"Have I have told you how much I love you, Chakotay?"

"Only about a thousand times."

 

*******************************

 

 


End file.
